


Scattered Thunderstorms

by Corinne K (Corinne_K)



Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-up Nanase Haruka, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Harurin centric - other characters play smaller parts, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Loosely inspired by Crazy Rich Asians (movie), M/M, Outdoor Sex, Power Bottom Matsuoka Rin, Pro Swimmer Matsuoka Rin, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Switching, and now for the smutty tags, olympic shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-23 23:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21089708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinne_K/pseuds/Corinne%20K
Summary: A young swimming instructor is smitten with a suave mystery man. Tropical weather sets the scene for a tempestuous love story that runs alongside their eventful lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written on impulse, almost in one sitting, after watching Crazy Rich Asians.  
A big thank you goes to Amberemerald for the corrections and comments. I truly appreciate your generous offering of time and attention :)  
I'll be posting two more chapters with about a week in between each posting.  
Enjoy!

It’s on a sweltering equatorial afternoon that Rin sees him for the first time. He has the sort of light-eyes-dark-skin that you see in fashion magazines, a lithe build under loose colonial whites, and the suave attitude of a playboy.

A pair of kids, a boy and a girl, cling to each of his sides.

“We’re here for the swimming lessons.”

Blue-eyes has a nice deep voice and is either stuck-up or extremely shy, judging by the lack of perfunctory greeting.

“That’s great!” Rin flashes him a trademark smile. Sucking up to these types comes with the job description.

He then squats and addresses the two kids, both dressed in some fancy school uniform. “Welcome to the swimming club! I’m Rin Matsuoka, I’ll be your instructor.”

The man hands Rin two A4 sheets filled in in a neat, somewhat feminine handwriting, with pictures of each of the kids glued to the corner, next to the chrysanthemum logo of _Nanase Heavy Industries - Sports Club_.

Rin has been working here for just a few weeks, but he can tell that the place reeks of old money. According to his intel, the company is a Meiji-era venture that prospered with internationalization, in line with the spirit of the time. Singapore was the first, and remains an important outpost, with most of the family being based here.

Rin wonders where in the food chain this guy might stand. Not too high, he reckons. Rich people always come with an entourage, and this fellow is bringing the kids to the sports club all by himself.

“Perfect,” he announces, after reading through the forms and adding them to the pile already on his desk. “We will be handing out swimming caps and starting our warm-up soon, so please proceed to the dressing room to get changed. If you want, you can go in with them, Tachibana-san.”

Two blinks, then those blue eyes widen. “Makoto Tachibana is my best friend. Miki-chan and Yu-chan are his.”

Oh. So, Blue Eyes is not the daddy. There’s a piece of good news.

“Right, apologies for that- …How may I address you?”

“You can call me Haru.”

Haru doesn’t follow the kids into the dressing room and, instead, takes a seat under a parasol near the pool. Someone brings him a newspaper that he flips through lazily while ordering something from the bar. Rin finds himself throwing furtive glances his way every now and then. This does not contribute greatly to his concentration, which is a potential hazard, considering that he’s waist deep in the shallow side of the pool, surrounded by pre-schoolers whose aquatic ability he is supposed to assess.

In the end, thankfully, no one drowns. All pupils paddle out of the pool and head to the dressing room. The day has reached its final hours and light swiftly fades in the sky. Thunder clouds skirt around the city but, at least for now, seem to spare them from a downpour.

The club is livelier now, with the tic-toc of tennis balls in the distance and the chatter of people coming in and out of the gym, or simply lingering in the terrace for a drink al fresco.

The underwater lights are turned on and Rin feels drawn to the water. He ventures one more glance to where Haru is still sitting. He sees him check his watch and exchange some words with an older couple and then – either in reality or illusion or by a trick of the light – he seems to look straight at Rin.

Maybe it’s the warm weather, the pretty reflections of light on the water, or some other kind of excitement that has started to creep through his body, but suddenly everything is electric. He climbs onto the block and jumps forward, flying through the air and plunging into the cool water. As he swims, he feels – or maybe imagines – the blue eyes brushing his skin. He shows off a bit of fly, then glides into long strokes of crawl.

When he climbs out, Haru is gone.

* * *

On the second day, it’s Tachibana who comes in with the kids. He apologizes for being busy the day before and thanks Rin for taking care of the twins. He is clearly a nicer chap than his best bud, who probably will not show his face any time soon. Rin can’t stop a little tendril of disappointment from lodging itself in his mind.

Not having the distraction proves beneficial to the class, though. Rin is not exactly an experienced instructor – he took a course in Sydney a few years back, thinking he might need to take on a part-time job if things got hard. Now that Coach Brown has invited him back, and he’s secured a spot in a Sydney university, he decided to save as much as possible to supplement the scholarship that he’s still hoping to get approved – currently the main source of his anxieties.

He probably does an ok job at teaching. At least the kids seem happy and loud as they rejoin their parents after class. Tachibana sends him one last wave, mimicked by the two siblings. But then the smile dies in his lips and he looks questioningly at someone who, judging by direction of Tachibana’s line of sight, should be right behind Rin. This prompts him to look over his shoulder.

And there he sees Haru, whose eyes shine like lanterns in the fading daylight. For a shameless moment, Rin lets himself study the fluid lines of his neck and clavicle, the flat pecs adorned by tiny dark nipples, the neat ridges of muscle over his stomach that disappear under stretchy black fabric, the sculpted legs, slightly parted in open challenge.

“Hi Makoto, Miki-chan, Yu-chan,“ he greets, before turning to Rin. “Are you going to swim today?”

“Have fun, Haru-chan,” Tachibana says. There’s something undecipherable in his expression as he waves again and shepherds the kids towards the exit.

Rin walks a few steps behind Haru, towards the pool.

“So, you also came for a lesson?”

“No, I came for a race.”

Those words send a jolt of static over his body. He feels himself grin. They climb onto adjacent blocks, adjust their goggles and jump in.

For the first lap or two, it’s Haru playing catch up to Rin’s more powerful stroke, but after that, the scene changes. They didn’t warm up, Rin was not ready for this, he is wearing board shorts instead of proper swimwear – all excuses lead to one truth: Haru has won.

They stand in the shallow end, chests heaving lightly. Haru caresses the water with his palms as one would smooth a silken sheet. Rin’s chest flutters. It isn’t jealousy, or frustration at the unexpected defeat. No, it’s something else altogether. In a pool in the tropics, under the threat of an evening shower, Rin Matsuoka is irreparably smitten.

Haru stays in the pool for a while, floating, like nothing else in the world matters. Rin takes that time to collect kickboards and file the attendance sheets. When Haru finally comes out, Rin pulls a towel from the rack and hands it to him.

Singapore is hot year-round, but June is especially stormy and steamy. Rin likes it, an eternal summer of sorts. They end up sitting on adjacent sun beds. Rin takes in the surrounding atmosphere while Haru towels himself half-heartedly.

“So, you work at Nanase,” Rin enquires to break the silence.

“I’m a trainee.”

“What’s your area?”

“Economics.” The curt answer comes with a little self-deprecating shrug and Rin feels compelled to say something uplifting.

“That’s cool,” he lies. “Did you study here?”

“No, in London. LSE.”

“Wow! You must be super smart then! I’m going to Australia this year. I mean…if my scholarship is approved, I’ll go there in September, for swimming,” Rin corrects himself.

Haru only nods. For a while, Rin tries to keep the conversation going. He learns that Haru was born in Japan but grew up in Singapore. He went to London for college and has just returned. He also hears a fair deal about Tachibana, who’s been Haru’s best buddy since early childhood.

“Must be rough. Two kids in one go…” Rin comments. “I have a sister who’s just a year younger and we gave my mom more white hair than she’d care to admit…”

“They think it runs in the family. Makoto’s siblings are also twins.” Haru delivers that piece of information with such seriousness that Rin can’t resist. He leans on one elbow, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips.

“What about you?”

“I’m an only child.”

“I mean the good looks - does it run in your family?”

_Rin Matsuoka. Just what in the heavens do you think you’re doing? _

Haru flushes, turns his face away. It’s impossibly cute.

“Hey, I was a bit forward. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable…”

“It’s fine. You’re good looking too.”

The words are said with just a little hint of lopsided grin. And just like that, Rin’s half-assed flirting completely derails. He turns beet red and can’t think of anything else to say. All his mind can process is Haru and his beautiful eyes, his awesome freestyle, his perfect body, and that offhanded comment _– you’re good looking too_. It takes an inordinate amount of strength just to school himself to some sort of dignity.

When he feels fairly recovered, he asks, “Would you like to do it again some time? Swim together…”

Haru nods. He can’t wait.

* * *

They do it again the next day, and the day after too. Swimming, a short chat on the poolside and off their separate ways. It takes Rin a full week to muster the courage to invite Haru out to eat. He suggests a hawker centre – local food, chill out, people watching, maybe even a beer if the mood is right – and Haru agrees without a second thought.

On the next day, after their now usual swimming routine, they get changed and walk out of the sports club together. As they do so, a car glides right in front of them and stops. It doesn’t particularly stand out – a Japanese hybrid with a sleek modern design. What does stand out is the staff member coming out of the driver’s seat and holding the door for Haru, who gets in and starts to adjust the seat and mirrors.

“Sir…” the attendant urges. Rin gets in, still slightly baffled by the turn of events. _Since when does the club have valet parking?_

Haru drives out of the compound and onto a road lined by jungle and some buildings that Haru says are army barracks.

“I spent some time here once,” he says, “but my home base was Mandai Hill.”

“You were in the army?”

“I’m a male permanent resident, so yes, I was in the army. Makoto was a fireman.”

Rin scrunches his eyebrows trying to picture it.

“Is it that strange?”

“It’s just a bit out of character, but if that’s the case you didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“I guess…”

Halfway through their drive, Rin learns that Haru is a fish lover. He particularly likes mackerel, which he cooks at home almost every day. However, since they’re going out, he suggests that they try spicy barbecued stingray, a local specialty.

They end up in one of the popular food courts, ordering the fish and a bunch of side dishes that Rin samples curiously. He marvels at the explosions of flavour and at the little snippets of Haru’s life that the man shares in between bites.

Haru seems to enjoy – or at least tolerate – Rin’s company, which is a wonder in itself. Rin is not certain, but he would make Haru at least four of five years older than himself, considering what he’s said about college and the army. Besides, he has an air of understated sophistication about him that can be outright intimidating. But Rin is not about to lose, so he offers his own travelling stories (which are not as extensive as he would like) and steers the conversation to movies and music, swimming and sports.

In the end, Haru drives Rin home. It’s the first time in forever that someone does so, and something fuzzy lodges itself in the pit of his stomach as the car rolls by his door. Haru unlocks the doors and gives him a small wave. Rin waves back and finally jogs off, smiling like a fool.

* * *

Another week goes by before they have a second outing. This time it’s not just a post-swimming snack. They are meeting in town on a Sunday afternoon. It was Haru’s suggestion and, as the time of their rendezvous draws near, Rin is rapidly coiling into a ball of nerves. He puts on his power outfit – ripped black jeans, grey tee and a red plaid shirt tied around the waist – and walks to the MRT. He ties and unties his hair and checks himself out in the glass every 30 seconds.

When he gets to the meeting point, Haru is already waiting under a tree, looking like a trendy vintage sailor in a striped t-shirt and blue pants. Rin notices the expensive watch on his wrist, heavy platinum body on a black leather bracelet, and grows a bit more restless.

They walk up Istana Park, towards the busy shopping haven of Orchard Road. As the street gets more crowded, the distance between them narrows. Their hands brush for an instant and his chest is a fluttery mess all over again.

“Rin, do you like ice cream?” Haru asks with a spark in his eye. Rin keeps a no sugar diet, but he supposes that he can make an exception just this once. He is rewarded by a childish grin and a hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Come. You’re gonna love this.”

A few minutes and a light jog later, they stand by a motorcycle kiosk, each holding a slice of marbled bread with a chunk of ice cream tucked inside it. Rin went for chocolate, Haru for pineapple.

“Thank you, uncle,” Haru says, as he passes the old man a crisp plastic bill.

“Ice cream with bread?”

“Eat it before it melts.”

It’s interesting, not what he’d pick for his first cheat day in ages, but combined with the steamy weather and Haru’s lovely half smile, Rin deems it worth it.

“I want to show you one of my favourite places,” Haru says, still chomping happily on his treat, eyes bright and lips tinged darker by the cold.

Once again, Rin is tugged by wrist, this time into a large shopping centre. Haru seems to know the place by heart, easily navigating corridors and escalators, until he stops, all contented and proud, in front of a Japanese bookshop.

“No shit! They have one here?” Rin exclaims.

Haru nods. “When I was younger, my English was poor, so I was happy that I could find Japanese books here.”

“Really? Your English was no good?”

“I couldn’t speak at all.”

It makes Rin giggle. Everyone has a weak point, he thinks, even the most perfect being on Earth.

“Come on,” Haru urges him in.

Inside, the rows of shelves are arranged as a sort of circular maze. Along with books, there are toys, models, and fancy stationery. Rin tries to stop to check something or other, but Haru keeps pulling and making a pained face. Rin giggles and follows without questioning.

“We’re here,” he finally announces, and releases Rin’s wrist. The sign overhead makes him chuckle.

“You brought me to the manga section?”

“They stock up on the classics. Here is Astroman volume 1, Dragon Ball, Akira, and of course, the whole of One Piece.”

“I used to dig Akira so much! Man, this takes me back!”

Rin’s mind is filled with an imagined version of Haru in high school, coming here all alone to spend time reading stories. Having studied abroad himself, he can relate.

They go from checking out books in a civilized standing position, to squatting, to outright plopping down cross-legged, passing volumes back and forth, reminiscing about those old stories, heroes and villains, fights and quests.

Rin can’t be sure when he stopped paying attention to the books and started to follow the rise and fall of Haru’s chest under his cute sailor t-shirt, the understated movement of his lips, his small smiles, his long fingers turning pages, the deep blue eyes that throw him fleeting glances and then retreat behind a veil of shyness and dark locks. He wants Haru with the intensity of a storm. He has fantasized about him, but this is different. They are closer than ever before.

“Have you read this one?” Haru hands him a volume of Tokyo Ghoul and when their fingers touch, neither of them is in a rush to pull back. Rin’s heart jolts; he searches Haru’s eyes for a sign, something to tell him that he’s not misreading the situation. He finds them fixed on their interwoven fingers. And he takes the plunge. He goes in gentle, heart hammering his chest. At the last minute, he chickens out and goes for the corner of the mouth. He stays there a few seconds, drinking in the moment.

When he finally dares to open his eyes, Haru’s are still closed. He witnesses the very moment when they begin to flutter open.

“Rin…”

He touches Haru’s lips with a trembling finger, trying to stop the inevitable, but Haru gently takes his hand and kisses it.

“Rin, I’m too… _old_ for you.”

He can’t accept it, he balls his fists, but Haru easily pries them open with gentle hands and pulls them both to standing.

“Let’s go. I’ll drive you home.”

They cruise in silence through the city. Everything looks different – hazy and fast and way too bright. The car stops outside Rin’s building way too soon.

“I can’t swim tomorrow,” Haru says. It makes Rin even more desperate.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts out.

“Rin…”

“Please…” Rin has never imagined himself begging for a kiss. It’s embarrassing and it irritates him, because the afternoon started out more promising than this. He’s about to storm off with his ego in shatters, when he hears Haru chuckle. And suddenly it happens. Haru draws near and gives him a peck on the lips. He’s still dumbfounded when he hears the doors unlocking.

Haru pulls back and smiles. “See you soon, Rin.”

* * *

He remains in a high for most of the evening, lying in bed, watching the sky turn dark. He replays the afternoon in his mind. It was everything and nothing and he wonders how he’ll make it forty-eight hours without seeing Haru.

He soldiers through the next day. He goes jogging in the morning. Even in the early hours the heat is already oppressive, and he quickly breaks a sweat. He hits the gym right after, and swims before the classes start. Despite all the physical exertion, the night brings back the craving and frustration and Rin finds himself awake, lying on crumpled sheets, thinking of Haru. It’s then that the thought emerges, like an earth-shattering truth: He wants Haru to be his first.

The next day begins much like the previous one, with jogging, a workout, and a hearty breakfast. In the afternoon it’s time to head to the club and get ready for his classes.

It’s halfway through his last session that Haru waltzes in and joins Tachibana at the bar. Rin’s mood brightens instantly. He can’t wait to send the little rascals home and finally be in the water with Haru, racing him for no prize other than the pleasure of challenging this beautiful half-fish-man.

But when his class comes to an end, Haru and Tachibana are nowhere to be found. Cleaning up and collecting teaching props doesn’t take long. Rin finds himself bouncing on his feet and wondering if it would be too ridiculous to go look in the lobby for Haru. He decides against it and sits at his desk, pretending to go through the attendance sheets once more. He checks his phone, then places it back in the waterproof sleeve. He taps his fingers, looks around, loses his patience and storms into the dressing room. There’s no one around. It’s good and bad. Bad because there’s no Haru, good because he can at least unleash his annoyance without making an ass of himself. He throws the towel to the floor and punches the nearest locker. The sound of fist on wood is not as satisfying as the rattle of metal would be, but it will have to do for now.

“Rin, what are you doing?”

Haru is just a few steps away, holding the door that leads to the lobby, dressed in his black and lavender jammers.

“Where were you?”

“The twins learned to do cartwheels and wanted me to watch them,” he shrugged. “Anyway, come on, lets swim.”

Rin feels stupid and borderline abusive as he follows Haru to the pool. But Haru doesn’t seem bothered. He calls Rin to the adjacent block and holds his hand up even as he crouches, ready to leap. At his signal, they start. They race each other over and over, until their muscles burn and the janitor starts throwing them disapproving looks. Rin wins every time, narrowly, but undoubtedly.

“Haru,” he calls after another 500m round. They have both been getting increasingly breathless, round after round. “Let’s call it a night, yeah?”

Haru hesitates but acquiesces, and they finally get out of the water and head back to the changing room. The adrenaline from the race mutates into a sort of excitement. Rin has to stop himself from tugging Haru along.

It turns out, the janitor must have really lost his patience, because the lights inside are already off. They have to navigate the space only with the faint glower of an exit sign. Haru stumbles on a water dispenser and his hand grasps Rin’s arm. The casual touch feels like a fire. Rin’s head spins. There’s a wall behind his back and a row of lockers directly across. His hands go to Haru’s shoulders and he’s walking forward with purpose. Haru is backing into the wooden surface, locked in between Rin’s solid arms. His bottom lip quivers.

“Haru…” Rin breathes. His forehead is against the wood, but his mouth is an inch away from the skin of Haru’s neck. Haru shudders, and his skin erupts in goose bumps. Hesitant fingers ghost over his waist. He dips further over that spot and slurps at the soft skin like a greedy animal. Haru forcibly pries his face away from the spot he latched on to and brings their lips together. They kiss, hungry and sloppy. Haru’s nails scrape the skin of his shoulder blades. His hips react on instinct. He grinds down and Haru grunts deeply.

“Fuck.”

“N-not here…Rin…”

He pauses, looks down. They both have raging erections under tight, wet swimwear.

“Where?”

“Hotel?”

Later, Rin will dwell on how slutty that proposal makes him feel, but he’s not in a mood to argue. He’d have Haru in a bathroom stall if it came to that. “Yeah,” he says, and they finally pull apart, panting heavily.

The drive goes by in a daze. He half registers when Haru stops the car on the roadside to make a run to the convenience store. It’s only when they are walking through a dimly lit lobby and he sees the famous fan logo that Rin realizes Haru brought him to the Mandarin Oriental. That’s supposed to be expensive, right? Isn’t Haru a trainee?

“One room, one night,” Haru tells the receptionist, and hands her his credit card. “Rin, your passport.”

Rin, the call boy. It’s so obvious. It makes him embarrassed and incredibly hot. He’s starting to wonder if it’s some kind of kink. He imagines the things going through the receptionist’s head. He can’t wait to put them in practice.

“King size or two double beds, Sir?”

“King size,” Haru answers, leaving no doubts.

The room is spacious, decorated in soft tones and bathed in warm lights, with a large window overlooking Marina Bay and the curtain of skyscrapers that make up Colonial Core. The bed is probably the biggest he’s ever seen.

Haru drops the car keys on a counter and takes the small 7-11 bag to the bedside table. Rin follows, like a puppy.

“Do you want a bath?”

They are clean enough from the pool and the cold showers they took before leaving the club.

“After.”

“Ok.”

Haru tangles his fingers in red locks and brings their mouths together in a searing kiss. Rin feels himself take a step back, then another, until the back of his knees hit the bed and he topples backwards, with Haru on top. His body sinks into the plump mattress. He feels his t-shirt being pulled over his head. Haru’s lips travel down his torso, past his navel, his hipbones, the trail of cropped red hair that leads into his briefs.

“May I?” he asks, fingers hooked over Rin’s waistband.

“Hell yeah.”

Haru’s lips close around his cock without further warning, his tongue takes a long lick from the base to the tip. His head starts bobbing between Rin’s legs, making slurping sounds.

“Shit, Haru…” Rin yanks him by the hair to stop the inevitable.

“You don’t like it?”

“Fuck… I do, I just…”

Haru shakes his head. “Enjoy it.”

Rin lets his head fall back and pleasure takes him away again. No more than a couple of minutes of that treatment have him spasming, bucking and filling Haru’s mouth with days of hot longing.

Haru heaves over him on all fours. His hair is mussed, his shirt is crumpled. His throat bobs as he swallows, a disgusted grimace coming and going in a second.

He them flops down and rests his head on the pillow of Rin’s bicep. Their lips come together. Haru’s passion is contained. He keeps his hands above Rin’s waist and starts to slow down to a cuddle. It feels like an anti-climax.

“Haru?”

“Hmm?”

Rin doesn’t answer in words. He begins to unbutton the thin white shirt, and then moves on to the navy shorts. Haru is still hard, he’s just pretending to not be interested. He slides his hands inside Haru’s boxers and pumps. He hates to admit it, but he’s too shy to straight out ask for what he wants, so he does his best to show it in actions. He pulls himself up and straddles Haru. He rolls his hips. He has to close his eyes. This is too much. If he looks at Haru now he will lose it.

“Rin…” Haru whispers.

He does it again, this time harder.

“Rin, don’t…”

“Why?” He doesn’t back down. He doesn’t want to be rejected, not when he’s come this far.

“I don’t want to be your first.”

“You wouldn’t be. I’ve done it before,” Rin lies.

He feels his face being wedged between cold palms. He is pulled down and kissed sweetly. Their bodies still flush against each other in a way that leaves no doubts about their arousal. He needs to tip the scales somehow. He brings his mouth to the crook of Haru’s neck, the place where he’d given him goosebumps a while ago.

“I could give you a blowjob,” he says, “or you could just screw me.”

Haru’s breath hitches. His skin reacts. His hands finally leave Rin’s cheeks and travel down, mapping his body. They pass by his shoulders, linger on his waist, knead his glutes, grasp his hamstrings, then come up again, and spread… spread… Rin’s eyes spring open. Haru’s are half lidded, his lips parted.

“You’ll tell me to stop if it hurts.”

Rin nods and Haru flips them over and looks for the plastic bag. He clumsily peels the plastic wrapping off the condom box and pulls one out, then does the same for the lube. Rin tries to reign in his nervousness as he sees the whole process unfold before his eyes.

When Haru starts to touch him, he inhales and does his best to relax, to accept the intrusion, to be a good boy. But it hurts, damn it hurts. Haru’s index finger is long and knotty. It takes forever to go in. He bites his lip.

“Rin, are you ok?”

“Yes… yes, don’t stop.”

Stupid. He should say something. But Haru is working so diligently. He’s added more lube and one more finger went in.

“Rin, it’s easier if you turn around. Is that ok for you?”

“Yeah.”

He rolls around and hugs a pillow. It’s fluffy and there’s a fragrance in it. Lemongrass, he thinks vaguely. Fancy. Haru pulls his hips back, gives them a soothing rub. And then, pain. Like being slashed in half. He doesn’t scream and obviously ignores Haru’s cautionary advice. He soldiers through the first thrusts, waits for the good part to come. The latex leaves a trail of abrasion on his sensitive skin.

“You ok?”

“Hmm…”

Haru takes it slow and probably adds more lube, because Rin can feel the friction ease a notch. The pain subsides. He breathes into the scented pillow and tries to relax. Slowly, other sensations begin to sprout. The fullness blossoms against his nerves. He feels things shift inside him. Strange thoughts about his own anatomy flash by. His attention is pulled solely to the inside of his abdomen, limbs forgotten, breathing erratic, heart hammering inside his head. Eventually, the thrusts start to feel funny on a certain spot. He tunes his mind to that feeling. It’s just a fleeting thing, there and gone. He wants Haru to keep hitting that spot. He moans, “there, harder”, and Haru does just that. But the intensity does something to Haru, his thrust becomes more staccato. The pace goes up, up, up and then it stops. Haru lets out a guttural sound and spasms against his buttocks.

“Shit, sorry…” Haru flips them over and takes care of Rin with his mouth a second time.

When they finally manage to drag themselves off the bed, they bathe together in the huge white tub. By the time they settle in bed again, clad in fluffy bathrobes, they are famished. Haru calls room service and they feed each other ridiculously expensive sushi, while lying naked in bed. It’s past 3 am when they put their clothes back on and leave the hotel.

Haru drives to Rin’s apartment like he could do it with eyes closed. They hold hands over the gear stick and listen to quiet piano music. Rin glances lazily out the window, taking in the late-night movement of this sleepless city. The car slowly rolls into his lane. The row of old double story buildings glides by, lined by street lamps and trees. His door comes into view, as well as the vehicle parked right beside it.

“Shit!” He jolts in his seat.

Haru presses the brake on reflex.

“That’s Sousuke’s bike. What’s he doing here at this time?”

“Should I stop you here?”

Haru doesn’t ask who Sousuke is, just lets the car come to a stop and turns off the headlights.

They are still a few meters off from the door, but well within view. He’ll just have to face Sousuke. It’s not that he owes anyone explanations about his love life.

They kiss each other goodnight and Rin comes out, waving and glancing back every few steps. His butt feels like shit but he’s walking on air.

He climbs the stairs to the first floor. Some obscure dubstep comes out of one of the rooms and there’s a small gathering around the fridge. Sousuke walks in from the balcony, where a few people are still smoking and chatting.

“Hey, Rin.”

“Sousuke? What are you doing here this late?”

His friend shrugs. “Came to hang out with you. You weren’t around, so your flatmates invited me to drink.”

“Right.”

He leads Sousuke to his room, closes the door behind him and plops down on the bed. Getting the weight off his legs and thighs is imperative.

They chat for a while about work and Sousuke’s travel plans for an upcoming long weekend. He’s considering telling Sousuke about his night when his friend takes a sip of beer and asks,

“So, when were you going to tell me that you’re dating your boss?”


	2. Chapter 2

“What are you talking about?”

“Nanase.”

“What about it?”

“Not it, _him_.”

“I’m not following.”

“Rin, are you dense or are you taking a piss at me?”

Rin is about to bunch Sousuke’s shirt in his fist when his friend sighs.

“Haruka Nanase. You came home with him, didn’t you?”

“No, that’s...”

“Who, Rin?”

“H-Haru.”

“Haru?”

“Y-yes.”

“Tsk…” Sousuke lifts Rin’s laptop from his desk and hands it over. “Here. Do the honours.”

They google Haruka Nanase and hit “images”. They scroll down. After a few rounds of pictures featuring one and the same person, Rin lets the laptop flop sideways to the bed.

“That’s him.”

“Yeah, I was pretty sure about that, Rin.”

“So now what?” Rin is at a loss.

“You tell me.”

Rin takes a deep breath. He pulls the computer back onto his lap and scrolls down. Haruka appears in a variety of settings. Black tie event, charity, an unnamed coffee shop, back home in Japan in a shrine, swimming in the ocean, walking down the street, eating his beloved mackerel...

“Why wouldn’t he tell me? Does he think I’m a gold digger or something?”

“Maybe, Rin, who knows?”

“He told me he’s a trainee...”

Sousuke chuckles. “If you count CEO in training as trainee, then technically he wasn’t lying.”

Rin looks at his hands, dumbly. Sousuke sighs.

“Alright, damage control. How far?”

Rin’s cheeks are set ablaze. Sousuke’s eyes widen. Rin’s voice weakens to a mere whisper.

“All the way.”

Sousuke pinches the bridge of his nose. “Feelings?”

Rin doesn’t need to answer. The dejected look on his face says it all. For the past weeks Rin and Haru had become a steady presence in each other’s lives. They ate together, swam together, talked, kept each other company, slept together. How was he supposed to face this Haruka - in his eyes, a completely different person?

“You need to talk to him.”

“H-how involved do you think he is… in the whole f-family thing…?”

“Rin… this kind of business, it’s not like western companies… it’s passed down, you know, like a patriarchal thing…”

“So, he’s the fucking heir. Of the whole thing. He’s… he… lied to me… And you know what’s funny? Just a couple of hours ago I was _thrilled_ to be a booty call. This shouldn’t even bother me, but… but… shit.”

He feels the burn around his eyes. He rubs fiercely, trying to stop it.

“Hey, hey… Rin...”

Sousuke pivots from the chair to the mattress. Rin looks shocked for an instant as his friend sits almost thigh to thigh with him and draws an arm around him, literally offering his shoulder.

“It’s ok, you can cry.”

“Fuck you...” he protests but accepts it anyway.

* * *

After Sousuke leaves, Rin begins to cry in earnest. He falls asleep out of exhaustion just before sunrise.

When he wakes up, it’s Saturday afternoon and his housemates are beginning to stir. Socializing sounds like a punishment to him at this point. He considers jogging or swimming but his body screams “NO” back at him. He goes to the kitchen to get some water. The other guys have just decided to go fishing and start to pester him to join. It’s all good natured, it even makes him chuckle a little, but then a dude, some friend of friend, starts to make jokes about Japanese being good at fishing (“if you come we can catch a tuna, those big ones that you cut with a sword…”) and it hits a string.

Rin likes to think he is mature for his 18 years of age, and the loss of his father doesn’t give him crying fits as often anymore, but maybe it’s the physical pain, or the bitter sweetness of the night before – somehow, the stupid teasing gets to him, reminds him of Japan, of his little fishing town, of boats in the harbour, fish crates being trolleyed around, men with dark skin and taut bodies, his father.

Toraichi is a distant memory, but Rin can still remember every detail of what happened after the phone call. And, just like that, all the anguish of that day is summoned to the present. He looks around and all faces are strange, acquaintances that have no idea, no way to know, no reason to suspect… He bolts out the kitchen and down the stairs. He will deal with them later. He hears someone gasp, someone else says “what the fuck”. He’s downstairs standing under the balcony when he realizes he doesn’t have anything on him other than his room keys and some coins. He walks down the road anyway.

He wanders around for a while. He doesn’t have a watch or his phone with him, so he only has a vague notion of the time of day. It isn’t raining yet, but high clouds are coming in. He passes by coffee shops and markets. There’s always someone eating in this city. The sun is setting, and people are moving around. His body aches. Walking isn’t comfortable, but he does it anyway. He wants to scream. A call to prayer erupts out of a nearby minaret. He stops walking. His heart beats fast. He feels that at that moment some sort of epiphany should strike him, but there’s nothing. He’s still at a loss. The rain starts to fall.

* * *

Sunday is a calmer affair. In the morning, he makes himself a sunny side up and some toast. One of his housemates apologizes for the day before and Rin feels compelled to tell him about his father. It’s a sober conversation, no crying or drama, and they end on a good note. After that, he feels put together enough to call Sousuke. His friend comes over in the afternoon with an extra helmet and they ride around the island for a long time. They end up in Changi Village. Sousuke feeds him stick after stick of satay and, after they are full, they walk to the beach. 

Before Rin came to Singapore, it had been a decade since he’d last seen Sousuke. His friend is older than him by a few years and, by the time Rin returned from Australia, Sousuke had moved to Tokyo for uni. When they met again, in the process of catching up and rekindling, Rin thought it fitting to come out to his friend. Sousuke had frowned for a few moments, before squeezing his shoulder in an earnest, best bud manner. He knew then that he would never even contemplate making a pass at Sousuke, despite the good looks and obvious compatibility.

They chat idly while sitting on the sand, sipping sweat jasmine tea and watching planes fly overhead on their approach to the runway. Sousuke doesn’t bring up Haruka. Instead, they talk about Australia and Rin’s preparations for a still uncertain move. When they ride back, the air is damp and a bit fresh. The motorbike picks up speed and they dash past trucks and cars, the rumble of the engine like white noise, settling his nerves. Finally, he thinks, he is ready to face the next day.

* * *

Halfway through his last class, like clockwork, Haruka arrives at the pool deck. His hair is swept back and damp, and on his face there’s a pair of dark sunglasses. He throws Rin a furtive glance and smiles. It’s the first time he sees Haruka smile in public and he almost smiles back, but he aborts it in time. Haruka frowns, questioningly, and goes to order something at the bar.

When the class ends, Rin sits by his station and waits. The moment Haruka sees him alone he comes over immediately.

“Hi,” he greets.

“Good evening, Nanase-san. Would you like a towel?” Rin pulls one from the pile, for added effect.

“So you know.”

“I do.”

Haruka starts to part his lips to say something. He stops, drops his head.

“I’m sorry. Can we talk? Let’s go somewhere…”

“No.”

“I see.”

He does a half turn, his weight shifts forward, as if to walk. He stops himself, turns around again.

“Do you have Skype?”

Rin’s laptop is on the plastic table that serves as his small office, his shark screensaver grinning at the passers-by. Haru is eyeing it with a sort of hopeful glint in his eye.

“Can I add myself?”

He considers turning him down, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Sure.”

He stands aside. Haruka types and taps and when he’s done, he leaves with a little nod. Rin looks at the screen and doesn’t know whether to be angry or amused. Under his new contacts there’s a picture of a big-headed bird with the strange handle of “Iwatobi-chan”.

* * *

Days go by without much to recall. Rin doesn’t see Haruka in the club again. Tachibana throws him weird looks when he picks up the kids. He seems to be a decent guy, never talking out of turn, flawlessly cordial, but really damn hard to read. He asks about the twins’ progress one time and Rin is honest when he says that they’re a cut above the rest.

“I’m glad,” Tachibana says, “it probably helps that they’ve always looked up to Haru and that he’s encouraged them to learn…”

Rin doesn’t know what to say. He forces himself to smile and the subject dies at that.

On the next day, Tachibana drops the innuendo and straight out ambushes him after the lesson.

“Matsuoka-san, could we have a small chat? Perhaps just… not here…”

“Now?”

“I need to drop the twins off at their music lesson, but I’m free otherwise… And now would be great…”

For the extent of the trip, they sit on the upper deck of the bus, keeping amicable silence as the twins chatter excitedly.

Once they’re alone, they pick a generic coffee chain in an unremarkable shopping mall. Tachibana pays for the drinks. The choice of place must have been intentional, because it’s not crowded at that time of day, but the background noise of the mall somewhat muffles their voices.

“I don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll go straight to the point,” Tachibana says, still with a remnant of a beatific smile on his face. “Haru-chan is my best friend. I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember...” Rin stops listening. What?

“Please don’t get me wrong. Haru was my first love, but not in a romantic way. We’ve been best friends for a long time, you see?”

“O-ok?”

Tachibana looks at Rin with a paternal warmth. He’s not so sure how to feel about it.

“Anyway, Haru has terrible communication skills and does stupid things like not telling his boyfriend what his family name is...”

“His...what?”

“Matsuoka-san...” He hesitates, shakes his head, “Rin, what do you think you are to Haru?”

His mind helpfully supplies _one-night stand_, but he doesn’t say it – he is absolutely sure that his lips remain sealed.

“You were not a one-night stand.”

_What’s the deal with this guy?_

“Look, I didn’t come here to pressure you or anything, but I’d like to tell you a bit about Haru, if you’d care to listen.”

And that was precisely the question: Did he care? He’d spent the last weeks telling himself that he didn’t, but in truth he was not so sure. So, he stayed in silence, leaned back and took a sip of his coffee.

“As you know, Haru is the only heir of the main branch of the Nanase family. When he was born his father was still fairly disengaged from the corporate affairs and free to live a normal life.

“Haru’s first years were not unlike those of any other children. But when his grandfather retired things changed. His parents started travelling, and he stayed behind with his granny and an army of maids. It was around that time that we met, at least that’s my oldest recollection.

“It was already obvious that he was being groomed for his future role, but it wasn’t until it became clear that he would be an only child that it all began in earnest. They would enrol him in all sorts of classes, bring him to the offices, hire him tutors...it was a full schedule, one that he detested. He retreated into himself, into swimming…and our friendship.

“I went to a local elementary school while Haru was home schooled, but in junior high Haru was supposed to go to a high-class private school so that he could socialize with the elite. He hated the idea…more than that, he was terrified. I begged my parents to put me in that school, but they couldn’t afford it, so Haru enrolled himself in mine. Can you imagine his father’s face when they found out they’d been paying the wrong school for half year? They were furious! But we somehow got away with it. Things got better from then on. We made other friends, started a swimming team and had a lot of fun. Haru opened up. For a while he got to forget all the pressure to be perfect, and we got to know a Haru that was funny, quirky, caring...a good friend.”

Tachibana stops. He puts down his glasses and Rin sees him scratch the corner of his eye.

“When we were at the end of high school it became clear that this lifestyle was doomed to end. We were all so excited to choose our careers and busy with applications that we didn’t notice what was going on with Haru. He’d lost all sense of purpose. His family had chosen his career path for him: economics, the skill set one needs to run a multinational business. No one cared that he was an accomplished artist, and an outstanding swimmer. Not even Haru himself. So instead of fighting for a career he loves, he committed the ultimate act of rebellion… At that time he was supposed to apply for postponement of national service so that he could go abroad to study. He threw away the papers. And so he became an army private for two years. It toughened him up, but also broke what was left of his will. When it was over, he packed up and went to London. His parents made sure he entered in _their_ first choice.”

Tachibana takes another pause to wet his lips with a sip from his mug. He looks pensive, stares at a couple passing by carrying a huge stuffed animal and decides to continue.

“It was during his time in London that Haru told me he’d slept with another man. I worried about him, but he just said that it was alright, and he’d do it again if he felt like it.”

Tachibana chuckles and then searches for Rin’s eyes, holds his gaze for a moment.

“When I saw him with you in the club that time, it made me scared and a bit jealous. After high school Haru stopped swimming altogether. But on that day, there he was. It was like a vision for the past. Later, he came to me and asked where I’d take someone I’d want to impress. I asked him if he had a date and he didn’t reply, of course, but that’s when I figured out that he was serious about you, Rin…

“So, I’m not saying any of this is easy or simple, but I thought you should know that things are not what they seem.”

“Thank you Tachi-“

“Makoto. I’ve just told you things about me and Haru that no one else knows, not even my wife, so, please, use my given name.”

“O-ok...thanks Makoto.”

“And, Rin... I said I wouldn’t pressure but I’ll just plead once: Call him. Give him the chance to explain himself. He did give you his contact, right?”

Rin chuckles.

“Well, yeah, if you count Iwatobi-chan as a real person...”

Makoto laughs.

“Privacy is not an easy thing to keep these days, unless you get a bit creative...”

* * *

At the end of three days stewing in the aftermath of Tachibana’s monologue, Rin bites the bullet and Skype calls “Iwatobi-chan”. He lets it ring for a long time, but no one picks up. He convinces himself that everything – Tachibana’s pep talk included - was all a big practical joke.

Later that night he is surprised to see a notification from the weird ugly bird.

_Rin?_

_Iwatobi-chan? _He types back.

A Skype call appears on his laptop screen, the weird bird logo pulsing in a blue circle.

“Hey…”

“Rin, it’s me. I added myself, remember?”

Haruka’s voice comes in huffs, like he’s running or exerting himself.

“Look, Haru, if you still want to, we could meet up and talk.”

“Yes, I want to.”

Not half an hour later, Haruka’s sleek grey car is stopping outside his door. Rin barely had time to change out of his sleeping shorts. He just slipped into the only clean pair of jeans he had and a white v-neck t-shirt. He knows this particular outfit makes him look hot, but he isn’t quite ready for the look on Haruka’s face when their eyes meet. Hunger, pure and raw.

They greet each other cordially, with simple words of “how have you been” and “nice to see you,” but at the first traffic light, Haruka’s gaze drifts to his legs. The skinny jeans reveal all the curves and winding lines of his muscles, the fruits of his hard work. Haruka pokes a finger through a tear in the fabric. The direct contact sends a jolt of arousal through his whole body.

Haruka pulls his hand back, startled at his own action. Rin doesn’t think; his hand shoots up and catches Haruka’s. They lock eyes.

“No hotels,” Rin says.

The light turns green and they have to tear their gazes apart forcibly.

“To my apartment then... Is that ok?”

“Yeah...” he answers, and melts back into the headrest, eyes contemplating Haruka as he drives. Their fingers remain interlaced all the way across the city.

They drive past the gates of Haruka’s condo, an upscale complex on the west coast, facing Sentosa Island. The lift brings them to the top floor in a breeze and Rin’s stomach flutters from the speed. They make it to the inside of the apartment, but as soon as the door closes behind them, they crash into each other.

Haruka starts caressing his hair, lips touching his temple, his cheekbone, retreating to his ear, the crook of his neck. Their hips meet and roll as one. His hands go up Haruka’s back, under his shirt. Haruka kneads his buttocks. He can’t keep this up. He’s too needy. It’s been a long time since they last met. Haruka is driving him insane.

“We were supposed to talk,” Haruka says.

“So we were,” Rin replies.

“After?”

“Yeah.”

Haruka ushers him in with a hand over his sacrum, and the subtle dominance of that gesture almost unravels him.

They dash past the living room, minimalist and tidy, vaguely Japanese, and enter a bedroom, almost completely bare, safe for a large double bed, a sort of desk and a stylish lounge chair. One of the walls is entirely made of glass and overlooks the ocean, with only the moon and passing ships in their field of vision. They leave the lights off and drop onto the bed entangled.

Neither of them is in any mood to talk anymore, or dwell too much on foreplay for that matter. They work on preparing Rin the best they can, going overboard on the lube, until they are all sticky up to the ears. Then, Rin pins Haru to the mattress and rides him with his head thrown back and his hands braced behind him. He controls the pace and when he feels the pressure inside him, he starts hitting that same spot again, again, again, until he’s whining, crying, and leaking. Haruka starts to thrust upward erratically. This is the reprise they both needed, an antidote to their disastrous first time. Their bodies synchronize into a sort of dance and Rin just knows that any second now they will reach the peak together. He knows, and Haruka does too. Everything aligns. It happens, and it’s a glorious high, like a well won race.

He finally flops forward against Haruka’s chest. He feels boneless and open wide. They reshuffle a little so that Haruka can get rid of the mess and they can cuddle and spoon, Haruka behind him, soft breath dancing against Rin’s neck.

* * *

Rin wakes up to the sound of scratching. It’s a bit rough, like nails on wood or sand paper. He’s not so keen on opening his eyes but curiosity wins. His vision focuses on Haruka, clad in a scruffy yellow t-shirt and loose boxers, sitting cross legged with a sketchbook on his lap. Rin cranes his neck to peek.

“Me?”

Haruka hums and looks away.

“Hey, don’t be shy. It’s...nice...and nude...” Now his cheeks are heating up. Haruka’s sketch traces the torsion of his body while sleeping - one leg crossed over the other, head resting on one shoulder, the other arm draped over the mattress.

“Are you ok?” Haruka asks, putting away the sketchbook.

He probes, moving his limbs, rolling around. It feels much better than the last time. His insides are comfortable, and his legs are not sore. There’s a slight kink on his neck from sleeping on an unfamiliar pillow, but that’s about it.

“I feel great.”

Haruka stretches himself next to Rin, facing the ceiling.

“So, what did Makoto tell you? I told him not to pester you, but he always does whatever he wants.”

“That’s quite a friend you have there.”

“I can’t remember not being friends with Makoto. We have each other’s back.”

Haruka nuzzles Rin’s neck. Rin rests his cheek on Haruka’s forehead. It’s nice to be like this.

“Anyway, I apologize. I should have told you about my family. I was stupid.”

Rin feels so relaxed that he is suddenly inclined to forget about the whole thing. Never mind the million doubts and hurdles that their situation entails.

“Don’t sweat it.”

Right now, he just wants to enjoy Haruka, who is present, warm and breathing against him. Who is so ridiculously good in bed that Rin doubts he can ever get enough of it.

“I had a really good time last night.” He blurts out, an abridged version of his thoughts.

Haruka shifts, lifts himself up a bit.

“I did too... I liked it a lot.”

Rin finally pulls himself up and sits. He cat-stretches his arms in the air.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Haruka offers to make breakfast and they go out to the living room. Rin inspects the place while Haruka busies himself with cooking.

There’s a brown sofa and an acrylic coffee table, a book shelf, and a TV fixed to the wall. The window is twice the size of the one in the bedroom and, in the light of day, one can see boats docked in a small marina, the sluggish come and go of cargo ships, turquoise waters, and faraway islets.

He catches sight of a framed A3 sized picture on the opposite wall and crosses the room to look more closely. It looks oddly familiar. A hill and a small fishing harbour, a beach, the sea and the sky.

“It’s a view of Iwatobi,” Haruka says. “My mother’s hometown.”

“Yeah, I know the place.”

Haruka walks from the kitchenette to his side, still wearing an apron and holding cooking chopsticks.

“The place where the photo was taken...” Rin lets his finger hover over the image, not touching the glass, “…on that hill… it’s where my father’s grave is.”

Haruka places a hand on his waist, comes around to face him.

“He was a fisherman. He died at sea.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry...”

“It’s ok, you couldn’t guess, it’s...”

“Coincidence.”

“Destiny.” They say at the same time. Rin chuckles.

“Polar opposites aren’t we...”

“So it seems.”

Haruka wraps his arms around him and speaks softly.

“I used to spend summer holidays there, when my grandmother was still alive. She lived on the slope that goes up to Misagozaki Shrine.”

“My home town is not far from Iwatobi. I went to elementary school in Sano, and to Samezuka Academy after I came back from Australia. I know the place quite well, but I don’t remember any fancy houses around there...”

Haruka laughs.

“My mother’s family was not rich. Shall we eat?”

Their breakfast consists of grilled salmon, rice and salad, and Haruka’s take on miso soup, which includes okras and chili. Rin enjoys it while sipping on freshly brewed coffee. They exchange memories of the small coastal town. Rin tells Haruka the full story of his father’s passing, then talks about Mom and Gou and his time in Australia.

In the end, they sit on the plush sofa. Haru turns on the TV and they pretend to watch a cooking show. It drones in the background while they hold each other and share lazy kisses. They are almost dozing again when Haruka says,

“I’m turning 25 at the end of the month. My family is having a party, at my grandmother’s house. Would you like to come?”

Rin perks up.

“Are you serious?”

“It will be boring. There’s a tea ceremony and whatever else my grandmother organized, so you better bring a friend. Makoto will be there, and the others, but they can be a pain...”

“It’s not that... Of course I’d like to go...but is it ok?”

“Oh...” Haruka looks away. “I’d introduce you as a friend...if you’re ok with that.”

So, there it is: his ceiling, his place. He doesn’t want to be bitter, but it stings. For the whole of this morning he’s been feeling comfortable, sated, taken care of, cherished... It all seems to evaporate with just one innocent remark.

“I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea...”

The look on Haruka’s face is one of disappointment but, at the same time, also of resignation, of a kind of passivity that makes Rin’s blood boil. He remembers what Tachibana said, how Haruka had changed after military service, how he’d accepted his family’s plans for him and carried them out with flying colours. He doesn’t know why, but he can’t stand that look on Haruka’s face.

“I’ll go. I have a friend... Sousuke, he’s a lawyer... I could bring him...”

“Ok,” Haru lights up, dark cloud momentarily gone. “Ok!”

* * *

Naturally, Sousuke thinks that the whole thing is a terrible idea. A week later, they have a get together at Haruka’s place. Sousuke brings some fancy wine, Rin sets the table, and Haruka cooks a huge pot of fragrant, hearty curry. Makoto comes without family but with two other guys that make up their inner circle. Ryugazaki is also a lawyer so he hits it off with Sousuke, which is a relief. Hazuki is bat shit crazy. Rin likes him. They used to swim medley relays with Haruka in high school. They spend a long time reminiscing about it. Rin finds himself listening to every bit. It’s such an endearing insight into Haruka’s past. He is absolutely delighted.

In the end, when Rin and Haruka are both working on the dishes behind the kitchen island, he hears the blond guy saying, “Look, Rei-chan, just like a married couple.” Haruka kisses his forehead and smiles. It hurts so much he can barely stand it.

When all the guests leave, Rin and Haruka are left alone. Haruka has one of those speakers with an iPod dock and he lets Rin do the honours. He’s been listening to a lot of post-rock lately, it pumps him up for training, but it’s not what the occasion calls for. He picks a French band he’s found himself playing increasingly often since he met Haruka. He feels a bit self-conscious about the choice, but Haruka seems to like it. They are standing in the middle of the room. Haruka lays his hands on Rin’s shoulders, Rin’s arms close around Haruka’s torso, and they sway. It’s not exactly dancing, but it feels so good. A snippet of a dream life that can only exist inside his mind. Through the speaker comes the beaten old verse, in a heavily accented husky voice – “_love, love will tear us apart again…_”

Rin stays over for the night. They make love and sleep together. In the morning, Haruka drives to the offices of his father’s company, in one of those glitzy skyscrapers in the colonial core. Rin asks to be dropped off near Marina Bay, because he needs to be out and walk, see people and process the barrage of emotions that’s been assaulting him for days.

* * *

The day of the party arrives in a blur. Rin puts on the suit he bought with Sousuke and they hand the address to the taxi driver. When they reach the place marked on the map, they enter a private driveway, lit by stone lanterns, that brings them further into a patch of forest. At the end of it, there’s a clearing and a Japanese roofed gate.

Haruka had told him to pack for a three-day trip, so he brings a backpack that looks like an elephant in the sea of elegance that greets them there.

They hand in the invitation and are ushered into a large garden. Rin can pinpoint Japanese elements, like the artificial ponds and stone arrangements, but the vegetation is lush and tropical. There are hibiscuses, orchids, bougainvillea and begonias, and water lilies in a pond. There are rows of seats lined up along the margin of the large water feature, and, on the other side, stands a small cottage with a wooden porch, where the utensils for a tea ceremony have been neatly displayed.

“They will be here anytime now,” informs Hazuki, who has just materialised beside them. Ryugazaki is by his side. They see Tachibana but he’s with his wife and kids, so they just wave at him from afar. The guests begin to take their seats. According to Hazuki’s rundown, in the first row are Haruka’s mother and grandmother, the company’s senior executives, and two women who are the wife and daughter of a close business associate.

“Sa-chan just came back from studying in the States. I heard she’s going to intern together with Haru-chan.”

“Sa-chan?”

“Sachiko Mori, the future _Mrs._ _Nanase_,” Hazuki clarifies.

_What? Oh fuck..._

Just then, the garden falls silent, as Haruka’s father walks through the cottage’s low door. Behind him is Haruka, wearing hakama and a royal blue monstuki kimono with chrysanthemums embroidered on both sides of his chest. The other three people are, according to Ryugazaki, an uncle, a government official, and Sachiko’s father.

Rin wants to leave. Sousuke holds him with a stare and prevents him from making a scene. They sit in the back row with a bunch of people they don’t know, probably distant relatives or company employees.

With choreographed precision, Haruka prepares a bowl of tea, which is passed from hand to hand, until all the men in the cottage have had the chance to take a sip. Then, someone bangs a gong and the guests resume their mingling. Rin is dying inside.

“Rin, I’m happy you could come.” Tachibana comes over and taps his back.

The twins run to him and demand high-fives. They have a teacher-student conversation while Sousuke and Tachibana make idle chat. A band starts playing on a stand and servers start going around with drinks and canapés. The five men from the tea house skirt around the pond. They meet the people who had been sitting in the first row, now standing near a large stone lantern by an orchid bank. Haruka glances past the guests of honour to where Rin is, and their eyes meet. He greets them all and stands there for the required period of time, then makes a bee-line to Rin. Sachiko discretely follows.

It’s weird to greet Haruka with a bow and even weirder to get introduced to the beautiful and soft-spoken young woman who joins them. Sachiko is not the villain he’s been creating in his mind for the past half hour. She doesn’t throw herself at Haruka and talks cordially to everyone. If anything, she seems to have gravitated to where young people were and seems happy to start a conversation with Sousuke and Ryugazaki. Something about law schools. All of them seem to get pretty inflamed by the topic. Hazuki and Tachibana plus family go meet some other friends. He is left with Haruka.

“The boring part is over.” Haruka says.

“Wasn’t that long…”

“Because you only saw the end of it. I’ve been entertaining them for hours. Japanese clothes were not made for this weather…”

“Important people?”

“Yes.”

Someone asks Haruka for a photo. Rin waves off Haruka’s apologies. He decides to turn around and look for Sousuke or anyone he knows, but as he’s taking that step back, he feels something against his arm. He tries to dodge but it’s too late. A women yelps in a high voice. Champagne spills on his shirt.

“Shit!” The curse escapes his mouth right when someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Is everything ok?”

The face is vaguely reminiscent of a familiar one, but he only puts two and two together when he sees the unique blues eyes, transplanted onto the older Japanese woman’s face.

“Haruka, look what happened to your friend.”

“Mom? Rin!”

“I’m so sorry, Nanase-kun, it was my fault!” says a lady in a kimono.

“I’ll get Rin a shirt,” Haruka says.

Haruka’s mother places a hand on her son’s arm, stopping him in place.

“It’s your party. I’ll take care of Matsuoka-kun.”

And so she leads him into the main house, a Japanese- colonial hybrid, all sliding doors and exotic woods. They climb a flight of stairs and find themselves in a private area that looks lived in and cosy.

“This is Haruka’s childhood bedroom. He still keeps some clothes here. I’m sure I can find you a plain shirt somewhere.”

While Haru’s mom browses the wardrobe, Rin takes a look around. The stand out is a large National Geographic poster of a dolphin. There’s also a cabinet with trophies from several swimming meets and a box of hand-carved models of the weird bird from his skype profile.

“Don’t get attached,” she says softly. She’s holding a white shirt on a hanger, and her eyes drop to where his hand was idly touching one of the wooden figures. “I know my son has weaknesses, but in the end, he always makes the right choice. What he gets from you, he could have as much as he pleased in London, but he still came back. So, make no mistake. You will never be anything more than entertainment.”

As Rin stands there motionless, she places the shirt on the single bed and leaves. He considers running, hiding, jumping. He’s in the middle of unfamiliar territory. He needs to get his shit together and get out with dignity. He takes off his shirt and puts on Haruka’s. It’s tight and he feels constricted, unable to fill up his lungs, restricted to small breaths that become increasingly laboured.

He walks out of the room and tries to remember the way back. The house is a labyrinth. He walks down a corridor and a flight of stairs, but, oddly, it doesn’t look like the one he came up from. It leads to another hall, lined with sliding doors. In the end of it there’s a service area with a washing machine and some unused racks, and, finally, a door. He goes out into the dark backyard, hoping to find a way back to the party.

After skirting for a while, still without an idea of where he is, he finds himself in another garden. Everything seems more delicate here. There is a smaller pond surrounded by low lanterns that shine warm light on blue water lilies. They have the exact same colour as Haruka’s eyes. Rin crouches to take a closer look. There’s movement in the water. He gets a bit antsy until he spots two carps gliding languidly under the lantern’s glow.

“Do you like it?”

The voice behind him is unmistakably Haruka’s.

“They’re beautiful.”

Haruka comes closer and combs Rin’s hair behind his ear.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I am now.”

He frowns, massages a patch of scalp behind Rin’s ears.

“Look, whatever my mother told you, don’t let it get to you.”

“It’s ok. I know…it’s what it is. I’m fine.”

The tears start falling, nevertheless. He feels arms around him and the rustle of heavy fabrics shifting against his body. Haruka holds him like that for a long time. He starts to fear that someone will walk in on them and turn disaster into catastrophe. Despite the worry, his breathing calms down, the sobs subside. Haruka looks him in the eyes and for once there’s softness in that regal gaze.

“Where did you leave your luggage?”

“Somewhere by the entrance I think…”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Isn’t this _your_ birthday?”

“I don’t care. Text Yamazaki and tell him to get your stuff to the service gate.”

The resolve in Haruka’s face is unshakable. He pulls Rin by the hand through the estate’s grounds, across the garden and the greenhouse, past the servants’ lodge and into the garage. The Nanases don’t seem to believe in splurging on sports cars. There are a few sober large sedans, a modern SUV, and Haruka’s hybrid car. Inside it there’s already a small trolley, which he assumes is Haruka’s luggage. They drive down a narrow cobblestone path and reach a gate. There’s a catering van parked there. Some servants are taking breaks along the fence, smoking and chatting. They wait there until they see Sousuke walking towards them with Rin’s backpack in hand.

“You better come up with a good excuse for this, Nanase… I still see a lot of grey heads out and about.”

“I’ll deal with them in three days. Thanks, Yamazaki.”

“Take care of him,” his friend admonishes solemnly.

Haruka nods. Sousuke smiles softly and offers Rin a fist to bump. Rin returns the greeting and closes the window. Haruka speeds down the path.

* * *

Half an hour later, they’re at the airport, boarding a flight to Krabi. In first class. Haru acts all nonchalant like he’s used to this kind of thing, which he probably is.

“So, just curious, did you ever fly coach?”

“Of course. When I was in Europe, I’d fly low costs all the time. My father has a private jet, though. I also fly _that_ sometimes.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“But I booked this because it’s nice. You’re going to love the food. Did you eat anything at all at the party?”

“No, not really…”

“Can you take alcohol on an empty stomach?”

On cue, a flight attendant passes by with a tray and offers them each a flute of champagne.

“I’m going to regret this, but hey… Haru…”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday!”

Rin raises his glass and Haru does the same. They lock eyes and smile. Haru takes a not so subtle look around. They have adjacent seats in the front of the plane and those frames are almost cabins, but…there are still stewards walking up and down the aisle, and late passengers coming in. Haru ends up settling for a very quick peck in the lips.

The flight is just a short hop, but Haru was right about the food. After the shitshow that the party turned out to be, laying back on the luscious seats, sipping on champagne, snacking on cheese and dim sum, and half watching an anime is heaven. Haruka’s subtle touches to his hands, arms, hair, fleeting and shy, only add to that soothing feeling.

After they touch down, they still have a land transfer and a short sailing through dark waters. He gets sleepy halfway and dozes on the way to the pier, only to wake up again when the small yacht jumps over a wave and his stomach does a flip. Haruka holds his hand. The boat tilts to the right to ride another swell, and the dark outline of an island appears, peppered with lights along the forested slope.

They are greeted at the pier by a handful of attendants in neat khaki uniforms, who carry their luggage and drive them up the hill in a golf caddy. When they get to their lodge, he doesn’t have much more energy left other than to disrobe and flop down on the bed. The roof is made of dark wood and there’s a canopy made of sheer fabric hanging off an arrangement of tree branches in the ceiling. Haruka turns off the lights and joins him. In less than five minutes he’s out like a light.

In the morning, Rin gets up to use the bathroom and gets swept off his feet by the breathtaking ocean view. They are in a wooden cabin perched on a hillside, surrounded by lush green vegetation. A macaque stops by on the porch and trots off again. Rin opens the glass door to take a look and finds that just outside, a few steps away, is a small infinity pool. At the other edge of the deck, a wooden stairway leads down to a white sandy beach.

“Good morning.”

Haruka’s arms snake around his waist and a kiss lands on his temple.

“What the hell is this place?”

“Do you like it?”

His eyes are still adjusting to the brightness, but the blue of the sea and sky are growing clearer, the cluster of limestone peaks in the distance painting the azure water in a dream-like picture.

“It’s paradise…”

“No…you are.”

And that sends him coughing violently and, he realizes with grief, out of the comforting circle of Haruka’s arms.

“You can’t say those things, dammit!”

And with a shove to the hip he’s falling in the pool in an impersonation of a Keith Haring drawing. When he emerges, heaving and coughing, Haruka is sitting with his calves in the water, laughing openly. It’s infuriating and beautiful all at once. He slaps water to that perfect face, pulls at a bony ankle and they are both sinking in the shallow water, limbs tangled, surrounded by flurries of bubbles.

“We can’t swim here,” he says when they’ve both calmed down. Haruka has hooked his hands beneath the deck boards and is just floating there across the narrow pool. If either of them was just a few inches taller, they could make a bridge across the water with their bodies.

“There’s a big pool somewhere…”

“And you don’t want to go there?” he asks, a bit surprised.

“No…” Rin watches as Haruka unhooks his hands, swirls to the side and locks Rin’s waist between his legs, against the wall. “There’s something else I’d rather do…”

Things quickly escalate. They had slept in the nude, so there’s nothing to uncover. They are entangled and lost in wet, hot kisses. Haruka hoists Rin up to the deck and starts to give him head in that resolute and skilled way of his. The morning sun licks his skin and Rin is starting to look forward to three days of unrestricted and unrestrained Haruka.

When he comes down from his high, he returns the favour. He licks and bites, watches Haruka’s reaction to his assault on neck, shoulders, nipples, navel, inner thighs… They go all the way, even before the staff arrives with their breakfast. They put on bathrobes for decency while the table is being set, and promptly remove them when they are left alone. They feed each other pieces of ripe mango that Rin laps off Haruka’s fingers as suggestively as he can, and they find that yoghurt feels heavenly on warm skin, as they taste it off each other’s bodies. The whole ordeal leads them to a second round, with Rin bouncing on Haruka’s lap as the latter leans back against a pile of silken cushions.

“Have you ever bottomed? Not complaining, just curious,” Rin asks later, over coffee, when they finally take a break.

“I did, once.”

“Not a fan?”

“It…didn’t work out at the time…”

Rin runs his fingers through Haruka’s hair, he nibbles on a tender ear. They both giggle.

“I lied, you know?” Rin says. “You were my first.”

Haruka catches Rin’s hand and kisses it.

“I figured,” he admits. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I really couldn’t stop myself…”

They kiss, the tang of coffee passing between them. Haruka pulls back a bit, to tuck red locks behind Rin’s ears.

“I’d give it another try, though…with you…”

Rin nearly jumps off his seat, the idea of it suddenly making him heat up.

“Really?”

“Someday...”

“Oh...alright...”

“Disappointed?”

Kind of, but then again, not really. He doesn’t care much for power dynamics, and to him top or bottom are just ways of loving.

“I might want to try something new, though,” Haruka whispers, and all of Rin’s skin goes up in goosebumps.

They move to the plush bed where they slept the night. The glass panels have all been retracted, so that it lies in the centre of a high-ceiling gazebo, with a fan lazily spinning overhead. Haruka lays Rin down on the mattress and settles between his legs. Rin is not one to complain about another amazing blowjob, but he’s starting to wonder about the “new” part, when Haruka’s lips suddenly drift south and he loses all notion of time and space. He never felt sore again like the first time, but he can still feel the stretch from their two morning sessions. What Haruka is doing now is the perfect antidote. His tongue is slick and has just the right amount of grip as it brushes lazily over his rim. It’s soothing and electrifying. He begins to pant and writhe. Haruka strokes him slowly, but it’s too much for him to take and he spills himself into Haruka’s palm in no time.

“Wow…”

Haruka’s grin is wolfish. There’s a sight he’s never seen before.

“I’m hungry.”

They roll onto their backs, laugh, interlace their fingers. Haruka’s are still sticky.

“Shall we order in?”

Seen from the outside, their trip probably looks like a sexcapade. Rich businessman brings younger bloke to a resort in the middle of nowhere and fucks him all day long. Maybe that’s the lingering notion behind the smiles, the polite acknowledgement of their requests, the discrete eyes that don’t bat a lash at the contents of their bins. It should probably embarrass him more. It doesn’t. Or maybe a bit. But deep down, Rin is a romantic idiot. More than the luxury, he sees the immense blue of the Andaman sea, the islands emerging from the waters like ancient deities, the luscious sounds of the jungle, and the beautiful gift of nature all around them.

An empty patch of sand stretches just below their porch. He makes a plan to go down and hit the waves at some point. For now, though, he decides to take advantage of the mellowing sun that bathes the porch in gentle afternoon heat. He lies back on one of the rattan sunbeds and closes his eyes. His skin doesn’t tan well, but he might get away without much of a burn if he doesn’t stay too long.

When he perks up a bit later, Haruka is still nowhere to be found. The sun is lower in the horizon, launching shadows of trees and shrubs over the white sand. A group of three or four people start setting a table near the waterfront. They dress it in pristine white towels that seem about to fly off until they clip them to the table legs with flowery embellishments. Over the sound of the wind and jungle, he spots a familiar scratching. He looks back and sees Haruka hidden away under the gazebo, sketchbook on his lap.

“Drawing the sunset?”

“No. Drawing you.”

“Can I see?”

“Oh, they’re setting our dinner…”

“That’s for us? Come on, let me see…”

He chases Haruka but he’s already disappeared again and the sketchbook with him. When he reappears he's dressed up in a pale blue shirt and white pants. Rin searches his luggage for something nice to wear to dinner. It's the first time that day that they put on clothes. They laugh about it as they head down to the beach.

There are some appetizers set on the table and soft music plays from a speaker. They get to their seats right as the sun begins to set. The waiter lights up a candle. The dishes come one after another. Typical Thai fare, with a touch of refinement, all flavourful and full of colour. They eat in silence for a while, stealing glances at each other, until his thoughts begin to spiral up and finally overflow.

“I used to think a lot about the future,” Rin says. “Swimming, going pro, taking on the world...” Haruka looks up, somewhat concerned. “Don’t worry, you didn’t make me lose sight of those things. I still want to go pro and win. It’s just…” He rests his chin on his hand, trying to find the right words in the dark shimmer of the ocean. “Being here, now, with you… It feels like something worthy in itself... I’m not used to feeling like this, that’s all…”

“Rin...”

There’s surprise and wonder in Haruka’s impossibly wide eyes. That stir, the fuzzy feeling he’s been nursing for a while, resurfaces. Rin feels that there are words he could use to make it explicit. But he can’t make himself say them. Instead, it’s Haruka who speaks.

“I’ve only ever had the here and now.” His voice is soft, he’s looking away. “When I was your age, the only thing I wanted was to be free. Now I know I’ll never be...”

“Don’t say that,” he protests.

“You have your dreams. You’ll be a great swimmer and you’ll see the world. You _will_ take on the world...and I’ll watch you from my little golden cage and long for you, to be with you wherever you are, seeing the same sunset and eating the same food. But life is what it is. I’m sorry I don’t have any more to give than here and now, but I’m glad you said what you said. And I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

His hands fly across the table, to catch Haruka’s. He hates it with all his heart – the crude truth of Haruka’s words, the memory of Tachibana’s tales. If only he could do something to change things. But he is just Rin, a wannabe swimmer, a kid, a nobody.

The resident band chooses this moment to make an appearance. A man plays guitar and a woman holds a microphone to sing. It’s a simple setting, but well executed. He can tell by the first notes what the song is. When he was in Australia, during middle school, he used to spend his many moody spells watching old movies from Lory’s stash. He knows that scene by heart. Crumpled paper by the man’s feet, the tapping of a typewriter, Audrey Hepburn playing guitar, perched on the window sill.

“Rin,” Haruka says, standing up. “Come on, no one will judge us.”

He is still wondering what Haruka means by that when the man comes around and pulls him to his feet. They sway to the sound of Moon River and the lull of the waves. Rin wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and Haruka kisses his hair.

* * *

In the morning, after breakfast, they decide to swim in the sea. It’s a clear bright day, so they decide to attempt an open water race to the nearest islet. It’s just a limestone rock, topped with some vegetation, like a head with an undercut. They don’t linger there long, for lack of any proper ground to step on.

They spot a speedboat cutting through the maze of islets and, in the distance, make out the shape of a pier. They decide to give it a try. It’s a long swim and they opt out of racing for now. When they get there, they realize it’s another resort, styled similarly to the one where they’re staying, but visibly in a lower price bracket. There’s a big pool and kids playing in a water slide. On the beach, under a grove of tropical trees, they find a small eatery. They are growing hungry but have no money on them.

“Where are you from?” the man on the counter asks.

“We’re Japanese,” Rin replies. He likes to practise his English and make conversation with strangers.

“You came here swimming?”

“Yes! I am training to be a professional swimmer, so it’s no big deal.”

The man gives a hearty laugh and Haruka chuckles.

“We are staying there,” he points to the island they came from.

“I see. Are you hungry?”

They look at each other and shrug. “Yes!” they reply.

The man serves them a large coral grouper, fresh out of the grill, with sides of steamed rice and green salad. No one asks them for a single baht.

“You think the hotel keeps a tab with these guys?”

“Probably. But Thai people are naturally nice too. Nap under the banana trees?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

They start their swim back before it gets dark. Haru is a bit like a fish. He swims like it’s second nature and when he’s tired, he just floats, contented and without worries. They take a break and tread water when they are two thirds into the journey. They are alone, surrounded by water - pleasant and slightly warm around their bodies. Rin paddles to Haruka’s side and slides his hands around the submerged waist.

“Rin, what are you-“

He pulls them both under water and kisses Haruka until they go out of breath. When they re-emerge, he looks at the beautiful, soulful blue eyes through a kaleidoscope of droplets and sun rays. His chest fills up to the brim with something raw and overpowering. He holds Haruka close and finally says the words that have been on his mind, because he will blow up like a puffer fish if he doesn’t.

“I love you, Haru.”

Haruka stares for a moment, still panting from the surprise attack. Then he smiles.

“I love you too.”

They swim back to shore and waddle to their hillside villa. They wash off the salt water under the outdoor shower, kissing and feeling each other, rocking together, breathing together, repeating those same words over and over because, once they are out, there is no more reason for parsimony.

After dinner, as they sit side by side in bed, Rin remembers that he still owns earthly things, like a phone and a laptop. Once it’s plugged in and brought back to life, he braves the pile up of messages that ping one after another. There’s a few from Sousuke, his mother’s weekly check-in, a barrage of entries in his apartment group chat, and a personal message from one of his flatmates.

“Shit…”

“What is it?”

“It arrived… My scholarship application result…”

“And?”

“Wait, let me get my laptop. Raj says he sent me a scan.”

They both stare at the screen waiting for the photos to load. They read the letter together. Once he’s done, Rin reads it again. There is no mistake. The scholarship has been approved.

“Congratulations.”

Haruka hugs him, kisses his cheek. It’s a bittersweet victory, but he says “thanks” and returns the hug.

* * *

Next morning, they pack up and fly to Singapore. Everything feels weird and wrong now that he’s back.

With the scholarship approved, it’s time to prepare for his move to Australia and there isn’t all that much time. On his next day at work he hands in his resignation. The club manager wishes him all the best and asks him to stay until the end of the summer programme, which is another few weeks. At the end there will be a small competition with medals and awards. He busies himself organising it.

In parallel, he starts to pack. He doesn’t want to, so he procrastinates as much as he can. He finds himself on the way to Haruka’s place almost every day. They live like a couple, like a borrowed, makeshift family. It hurts but he can’t stop it. He tells Haruka he loves him - by message, when they meet, when they make love, when they wake up together. He keeps saying it in his head when Haruka drops him at the same spot by the bay, as he walks and walks and never really gets to clear his mind.

The club tournament and closing ceremony comes and goes. Tachinana’s kids win their races. They hang out a few more times - Haruka, the Tachibanas, Hazuki and Ryugazaki. They all love Sousuke so he brings his friend more often than not.

He finally packs: one large luggage to take along with him, straight to Sydney, and a cardboard box full of books, souvenirs and random trinkets that he can’t bring himself to dump. Sousuke helps him lug it to the nearest post office and they ship it to his mom’s place.

Russel and Lory offer him a bed until he is settled, which he accepts. They browse real estate listings in Sydney. He considers a dorm, but as long as the scholarship can cover it, he prefers to have a place of his own. They find a potential winner, a studio with a view of the Opera House, and contact the owner.

When his flight is booked and the date is announced, his flatmates decide to throw him a farewell party. They buy an obscene amount of booze and invite a bunch of people, many of whom completely unknown to Rin.

On the day of the party, which is the eve of his flight, he is confused and irritable and not in the mood for any of it, even as the guests start to arrive. He looks at the staircase every few minutes. Sousuke smacks him in the neck and tells him to get off his funk.

When Haruka finally arrives, with Tachibana in tow, the rowdiest spell has subsided. Still, somehow, bottles materialize in their hands as soon as they near the common table.

“Tiger beer from Singapore for our Japanese guests,” someone says. Rin is slightly annoyed by the presence of Tachibana, but he understands why Haru would need a wingman. It’s just like Sousuke and him - when the other is around things are not as hard.

Someone has been playing songs from a laptop perched on the kitchen counter. The people gathered around it trade jokes and stories. One of his flatmates brings out a box of props - wrestler masks and wigs and Viking headdresses - that they take turns posing with, horsing around, drinking, snapping photos. Many of their nights end on that note. He likes it. It makes him even more nostalgic, but he goes along with it.

It’s a long time until the flat gets quiet. There’s still music playing – indie rock intermingled with world music, someone’s music library that has just been left on shuffle. Haruka approaches the computer and asks no one in particular,

“Can I play something?”

There is no response, and so he pulls a browser window. Rin looks curiously over his shoulder. He sees Haruka’s fingers deftly typing the title and curses internally when he sees the completed words.

“Remember?” Haruka asks, pulling Rin’s arms around his own neck and settling his hands on Rin’s waist.

“Of course I do, you closet romantic.”

Haruka hides his face in Rin’s shoulder as he laughs softly. “One last dance?”

Their bodies sway gently, their feet barely shuffling from side to side. Tears start prickling at the corner of his eyes.

People spend lifetimes looking for the one soul that matches their own. For both of them, it didn’t take that long to find it. It’s here, clear as water, obvious like a bad joke. Rin was born to love Haruka, and Haruka was born to love Rin. No physical separation will change that, ever. He knows Haruka is thinking the exact same thing when he makes no move to wipe Rin’s tears, or otherwise stop him from coming apart in his arms. It’s just those stoic bright sapphires calmly watching him cry like he’s never cried before.

He can’t pinpoint when it starts, but alongside Hepburn’s, there’s another voice singing those words. It’s soft and just borderline in tune.

_“Two drifters, off to see the world...”_

It’s the first time he hears Haruka sing and it fills him with wonder. He wants to join in, but his voice is caught in his throat. The music ends and their lips crash desperately.

“Stay here tonight.”

“Ok.”

They bid goodnight to his flatmates and see Sousuke and Makoto to the exit. When the door to his room closes, they are finally alone. Rin lowers the blinds and leaves the window open to ease the heat of the night. They fall together on the single bed and say one last goodbye.

* * *

Rin wakes up long before the alarm. Haruka takes a quick shower in the shared bathroom and comes back looking worse than before. They get ready in silence and Rin throws the remainder of his belongings into his backpack. They go down when he gets a text from Sousuke. His friend drives Haruka’s car to the airport, with Tachibana riding shotgun, and the two of them in the back, curled around each other.

Rin feels that he is barely present as Sousuke pushes him to the check-in counter, hands in his passport, and gets the boarding pass. Haruka is just as lost, looking around and seeking comfort in whatever conversation Makoto has going on. They take a walk around the terminal, eat curry puffs and drink coffee. The minutes tick by and they make their way to the security gate. Rin and Haruka hold hands like a handshake, facing each other, a foot distance apart. This is the bloody airport, after all. He doesn’t want to let go. He has to let go. Sousuke ditches all sorts of tact and pulls them apart at arm strength.

“Rin, go!”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t wave, doesn’t say goodbye, just walks, walks. He hears Sousuke saying “Nanase, I’ll drive you home,” and lets the guard scan his boarding pass and check his passport. He proceeds to immigration, then to the gate, and into the plane. Singapore disappears in a sea dotted with ships. Rin is going to live a dream, but he leaves behind half of his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments and hope you are enjoying this!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here you go, another angst feast and the grand finale!  
Once more, a big thank you to Amberemerald, who betaed this whole thing!  
If you are well versed in competitive swimming and Olympic rules you might need a bit of suspension of disbelief for this. I tried to figure out how it all works but please excuse any mistakes (and do point them out in comments - I'm totally ok with concrit).

In the following months, Rin lives in Sydney, trains, attends tournaments around the world, changes his major from English to Philosophy, and spends his time away from the pool reading frantically.

He keeps in touch with Haruka through mail and messages and infrequent conversations. Long distance is not easy. He craves and aches and almost drives himself crazy.

In the fall, he goes back to Singapore for a two-day competition and finds Haruka in the stands. They go back to Rin’s hotel room and crash into each other with the fury of a typhoon.

Before they part, Haruka pleads against his chest, “I don’t want to be nothing to you.”

“Then be something.”

They settle on a long-distance open relationship. For a while, this semblance of closeness helps fill the unbearable void inside them. They meet in different places, under a variety of excuses. Haruka has the funds to make short escapades here and there, and Rin travels often for meets. A few times Haruka turns up in Sydney unannounced because of last minute whims. They tell each other that one day, when Rin’s career is over, when Haruka can finally break free of the corporate nightmare, they will be together again.

But then, during a particularly bad bout of his heart condition, Haruka’s father makes a deathbed plea to his son: that he accepts to be betrothed to Sachiko Mori.

Rin doesn’t know much about Haruka’s father, but he knows how much he misses his own. He is painfully aware of how, even without a deathbed wish, he still remains bound to a dead man’s dream. So, when Haruka calls him to ask for advice, he tells him to do his father’s bidding. It’s not worth it to go through life carrying such a burden, if things take a turn for the worse.

In the end, Haruka’s father recovers just fine, but the opening has been given. Haruka doesn’t want to marry Sachiko, but now both families are involved, there are presents – very expensive presents – being exchanged, and corporate moves being made to seal the deal.

Haruka comes to Sydney again and says he can’t take it. He will leave everything behind and stay with Rin, he will brush toilets and clean the street. It’s a full-on meltdown. For a few days they stay cooped up in Rin’s apartment, crying and fucking, feeling helpless and lost. It becomes clear that such a thing will not work. Rin needs to focus on swimming and Haru can’t survive away from his friends and his environment. If they go rebel right now, they will only hurt each other.

And so, he breaks his own and Haruka’s heart, breaks them up and sends Haruka back to Singapore. It’s the worst day of his life and it still hurts like hell long after it’s gone. He grows angsty and lonely. Training becomes his only respite. He adopts a spartan lifestyle that quickly boosts his times and hands him a ticket to the Olympics.

During that summer, while the Japanese press is up in arms with the wedding of the Nanase princeling, another young Japanese takes Beijing by storm. He is moody and unfriendly, scowling through interviews and confronting whoever rubs him the wrong way. Despite the bad boy attitude - or thanks to it - he gets a fair bit of attention and admirers. It also helps that seemingly out of nowhere, he takes over the butterfly and freestyle events, snatching medals left and right, out of the favourites’ bare hands.

When he goes back to Sydney, he further intensifies his training. This resolve only gets stronger when he learns from Makoto that Haruka has produced an heir - a female heir, so probably more will come, because there is no way the Nanases will put the management of their empire in the hands of a woman. Rin thinks that it’s really the end, because he still has some sense of human decency.

At some point, in a training camp in Europe, he crosses paths with the Swedish swimmer who blocked his way up in Beijing. Albert knows a bit of Japanese, which sounds really cute in his dry Scandinavian accent. His crawl is powerful and elegant, a cut above the rest, but he doesn’t stand on a pedestal. Instead, he mingles and seems to genuinely care about his peers. They spend time together sharing meals in the cafeteria, swimming, walking around town.

Before the training camp comes to an end, Rin accepts Albert’s advances and they become _something._ It’s probably a rebound, but Rin doesn’t tell Albert about Haruka, and so it never gets overly complicated.

When things start to transpire, Rin is careful to summarily deny them. He is still called to a meeting with the national team managers. In a roundabout way, without calling things by their name, he is told to avoid embarrassing the nation. He agrees to that. Swimming comes first. That’s just how it is and will be.

He keeps collecting medals in a series of international events. One night, in a hotel in Prague, he receives a call from Haruka and, just like that, his heart leaps to his mouth all over again. It was just a congratulatory call, Rin got riled up for nothing. He hangs up feeling empty, he thinks that he can’t stand the disappointment, so he all but shuts Haruka off once and for all.

* * *

The competitive cycles start to dictate most of Rin’s life. His relationship with Albert cools down and he calls himself single again. There are others, of course – swimmers he meets around the world, guys in clubs, a typhoon called Natsuya, who comes out of nowhere, crashes at his place for a week, blows his mind in bed and then disappears without a trace. He doesn’t bother to keep contact with any of them. He takes precautions – for his health and reputation’s sake – but other than that, he doesn’t really care.

After the London Olympics, Gou gives him a nephew. He dotes on the boy and starts to visit Japan more often. This makes him calm down a bit, and he finds himself getting used to being alone. It’s a peaceful feeling.

On one of those visits, he sweeps his father’s grave and then stands on the lookout, admiring the view of Iwatobi harbour. It suddenly reminds him of the picture that Haruka used to have in his living room. _Does he still have it?_ he wonders. Perhaps it’s now somewhere in his family home, in a guest room or in storage, celebrating a distant childhood memory.

He’s been emotional that whole morning. He’s always that way when he visits his father. He sits there for a while, thinking, feeling. His achievements stand proudly at the forefront of his persona. He doesn’t brag but he wears them with pride. It’s the life he has always aimed for and it’s those achievements that he lays at the foot of this grave whenever he comes here, the only way to reassure his father that for the short time that he got to raise Rin, he did a good job.

However, in a corner of his mind, there is a memory of those fleeting months, of so much discovery and growth, of a meeting of souls that left him marked forever. Is Haruka still living in a golden cage, or has he come to terms with his path? How does a family look on him? Is he _happy_?

That thought gives him a stupid need to check on Haruka, to make sure that, somehow, despite the other man’s pessimism - almost nihilistic in its viciousness - he has found some sort of respite in the life he chose. And so, he does the unthinkable - he pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a lousy snapshot of the view. He attaches it to a message to a number that might well be obsolete by now and types:

_Guess where I am now. Do you still have this up on the wall?_

For the few minutes he waits, his heart races. A tell-tale set of dots appears on the screen. Then, finally, a message:

_Yes, I do_

He sighs. Saving his words as always. But then the dots appear again. He waits. And in pops a blurry square. His phone is on roaming data, so it’s probably trying to save him the extra charge.

_But team Matsuoka is slowly gaining ground_

Haruka’s message doesn’t make any sense, so he clicks on the image. In it, there is Haruka, looking slightly older, dark bangs a bit shorter but his blue eyes not the least bit less electrifying. By his side there is a bite-sized, piggy-tailed carbon copy of the man himself. Behind them, glued to a pink wardrobe door, is an A4 size photo of Rin himself, wearing his London uniform and medals. His face burns and his heart swells like crazy. How is it possible, after so many years, to feel like this with a simple photo? Will his love for Haruka ever die?

As he’s recovering from the emotions, a new text comes in.

_We are having a birthday party for Mari’s 7 years in May. Do you think you could come over? It would mean a lot to both of us_

* * *

Landing in Singapore after so many years is exhilarating. The city looks different even from the air. The triple phallus that Haruka used to mock years ago is now fully built and shooting laser beams into the night sky.

Sousuke picks him up at Changi with a new car and the slightest hint of padding around his midsection. Once upon a time, they had both harboured the dreams Rin is living now, but then a bad shoulder had made a lawyer out of his best friend. They drive in silence for a while, Rin taking in the landscape. Trees and beaches lit by cargo ships on one side, tall residential buildings on the other.

“So, when do you plan to get laid?” Sousuke suddenly taunts.

“What are you on about?”

“Nanase. Isn’t that why you came back?”

“Sousuke, he’s married with a kid. Take your mind out of the gutter.”

From his friend’s mouth comes a sort of unpleasant, manic laugh.

“Oh Rin… You really believe he’s married? His missus is in the market. She’s been for a long time. Nanase doesn’t give a shit. You don’t even need to come on to him. Just tell him where and when. No, scratch that, don’t do anything and he’ll get there by the scent.”

“Why are you being such a dick?” This stupid conversation is really starting to piss him off.

“Because I thought you’d had your fill of Nanase birthdays for your whole lifetime…and here you are, running to him like a puppy just because the little heiress has been fan-girling over you.”

“Sou…” he exhales. “I know some things look stupid to other people, but they’re so important to you that you refuse to see the ugliness…because it’s just unbearable. So…can you let me have this? Let me believe that he really just wants to have me around?”

Sousuke glances from the driver’s side, then brings his eyes back to the road.

“Sure, I’m sorry Rin.”

Rin shakes his head, “So now what? Drop the bags and hit Clarke Quay?”

* * *

Gratefully, this time around the party is held at Haruka’s place and not at the freaking Nijou-jo of Singapore. Sousuke drops him off outside the two-storey villa. It’s a more modest property than the _senior_ Nanase residence, but just the fact that Haruka owns a piece of soil in this city, rather than a shelf in the sky, means that they are currently standing on a rather hefty sum.

The place looks airy and modern, with a small pool right outside the living room - nothing you can swim in, just a leisure thing. The sofas are plush and big, with a coffee table and some sculptures adorning the space.

Rin is tackled at the entrance by the Tachibana siblings - now teenagers and on track to growing as tall as their father. Tachibana appears from behind them and places a hand on Rin’s shoulder. He smiles warmly.

“I’m so glad you could come. Haru and Mari-chan will be very happy. They’re in the back setting up a bouncy castle. Come with me…”

But before he can follow them and exit the residence to the small backyard, a thin figure blocks his way.

“Hi! Remember me? My name is Sachiko.”

He bows to the woman and makes small talk for a few moments, before she dismisses him. Sousuke’s words swirl around in his mind. The woman’s presence is unintrusive. Perhaps that’s the reason Haruka can coexist with her. Maybe they have an understanding. It should make him feel relieved, but it only makes him sad.

He finally makes his way to the back door. The small garden is lined by trees and consists of a simple patch of lawn with some flower banks and a gazebo. There are balloons and confetti scattered around, and, in the far corner, a small bouncy castle wobbles away with four or five kids jumping on it. It’s right beside it that he catches a glimpse of Haruka, crouching to catch something from the floor. When he stands up, their eyes meet.

In his usual resolute style, Haruka walks to him. It’s as though time has stopped. He is still so beautiful, even with the little marks of age making their appearance.

“Rin!”

“Hey there.”

What can you say to the man you love after years of separation? Years in which your lives took completely different courses. They might call each other strangers, if it weren’t for the maddening warmth of being so close.

They smile to each other, and watch the kids play. When Mari spots Rin standing next to her father, she immediately leaves the fun of the bouncy castle and runs to them. She grills him with questions about everything and nothing. Clever little thing, beautiful like her father - and mother, he has to concede. It’s clear that Rin is her idol and it flatters him.

They sing the song, blow the candles, cut the cake. The sun drops low and most kids gather in the back screaming away. There’s a group of grown-ups in the living room, having wine and talking. A maid begins cleaning up discretely, so as not to let the guests know that it’s time to wrap up for the day. He spots Haruka picking up some plates from a sideboard. He cannot explain how much the scene endears him. His body moves on its own and he begins to collect abandoned cups from another table. When he enters the kitchen, Haruka is there alone, scrubbing leftovers into the bin.

“Rin, don’t bother yourself,” he says when he sees Rin beside him, but Rin just places the cups in the sink, and when Haruka begins to wash, Rin grabs a cloth and starts to wipe.

“Do you always do this? …Dishes, home stuff?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“And here I thought you were this big shot businessman…”

“Not all is as it seems.”

“I see that.”

Haruka pauses his work for second, wet fingers resting on the edge of the sink.

“Rin, I’m so grateful you came. Mari has admired you for years.”

Rin feels, against his will, a prickly sensation threatening the corner of his eyes.

“Oh,” Haruka exhales, looking intently at Rin. “I didn’t mean-” he cuts himself off.

“It’s ok, Haru. I’m happy to meet your family.”

But Haruka shakes his head.

“I wanted to see you. It’s been so long… Just you being here, Rin, it’s enormous. It shows how big a heart you have, and I can’t even begin to say how I… I…” he falters, the words stand still, then slowly come out, like sharp blades, “…I am floored to have a friend like you.”

Rin’s eyes widen, his hands tremble. He has to put down the wine glass he was wiping.

“Rin, sorry, I…”

“It’s ok, Haru. Remember what we promised that time? As long as we are something… Friends…” he tastes the bitter word, “Friends is fine.”

Haruka has also abandoned whatever he was working on. His hands are cold and damp when he holds Rin’s. There’s a glaze in his eyes and Rin knows the rarest of things is about to happen - Haruka is about to cry.

“As long as it’s something,” he echoes Rin’s words and drops his head between them, sobbing softly. Rin brings Haruka’s hand to his lips. It smells of citrus dishwasher. He plants a kiss across the bony knuckles and finally gives up and lets the tears fall down.

And that’s when they notice a shadow hanging by the door.

“Papa? Matsuoka-senshu?”

Haruka inhales sharply, schools his facial expression. Rin tries to imitate him, without much success. They both have wet trails marking their cheeks. He wonders what this looks like to a 7-year-old’s eyes.

“What is it, baby?”

“Uncle Makoto was saying that next year will be the Olympic Games… Matsuoka-senshu, you will be there, right?”

“Uhh…” he rubs his neck. He was not ready for the emotional leap. He does his best to grin playfully. “I sure hope I will, Mari-chan.” And just to ease the tension, he winks and adds, “You can call me uncle Rin.”

The girl’s eyes light up to an impossibly bright blue.

“Papa, can we go? I really, really want to see _uncle Rin_ swim in the Olympics… Papa, pretty please, I will do anything!”

Haruka looks bemused, staring between Rin and his daughter, and then, in the most adorable way, he simply nods.

“_H-hai.”_

* * *

When Rin leaves Haruka’s house, Sousuke is still at work. He realizes he doesn’t remember much of the city’s layout, but it’s enough not to get too lost. He walks down the road and takes the first bus. When he alights a while later he finds himself somewhere vaguely familiar, a bustling neighbourhood full of shops, cafes and local eateries.

He’s trying to decide where to stop for a nibble when he walks past an alley and hears the tell-tale buzz of a needle. He looks through the window and finds the focused figure of a young woman, leaning over someone’s bare leg. He goes in and she looks up briefly when she hears the chimes over the entrance. Rin mutters a greeting and starts browsing the pictures on the walls and the album on the counter.

Rin has never been inked. The thought has always been on the back of his mind, but never materialized. When he started swimming competitively, it began to outright repulse him, in part due to all the pretentious Olympic ring tattoos going around.

The artist’s work looks neat, all thin lines and minimalist stuff. There’s a calligraphy section that, for some reason, attracts his attention. He thinks of his old motto - “for the team” - and smiles but shakes his head. When did he stop swimming for the team? Somewhere in his adult years, this whole journey had become less about others - even his father - and more about filling his days with something meaningful. It has been, he realizes, a purely selfish endeavour. Selfish, as his love. Seeing Haruka today meant so much, but the sense of loss is overwhelming. His mind is flooded with memories and dark, hot longing.

Suddenly the chimes stir again. It’s the customer from just now leaving with a smile and wave. How long has Rin been there? Maybe he spaced out. The young tattooist approaches him with a curious look.

“Hello! I’m Rose. How can I help you?”

As he finds out, Rose is in Singapore for only one week while her friend, who runs the parlour, is off for some convention overseas. Surprisingly, she saw him swim in London – live. With that, the conversation goes on for a while, pleasantly. She makes him a coffee and he sits down behind the counter with her. The shop is quiet, so they keep chatting.

“So, are you finally getting those rings?” She teases.

He winces and shakes his head.

“I want something, but that’s not it.”

“Do you have an idea?”

He hesitates - long enough that she adds, “You don’t need to get anything… I mean, the coffee… Let’s just say it’s a perk of having fans around the world.”

She winks at him, and it makes him blush a little.

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I want it. It’s…” he starts, but he can’t bring himself to say it aloud. “Can I write it down?”

She hands him a scrap of paper and he writes the phrase on it, then hands it to her. She examines it, then looks back at him.

“Have you considered where you would like it?”

He takes a deep breath and answers,

“Over my heart.”

* * *

Months go by and soon it’s time to head to Rio. It’s his third time, so his nerves are slightly less on edge and he decides he’ll try to appreciate the whole experience in a different way. He has sworn off debauchery and intends to make the most of this opportunity to really shine. He might make it to the Olympics a fourth time, but he is aware that his times and physical condition will never be better than this. He has qualified for his best races and the medley relay team finally stands a chance, with Momo and the Kirishima brothers in top form.

Last but not the least, Haruka will be watching. After their last meeting in Singapore, the wound that was still oozing after years of separation, slowly began to heal, together with the tattoo he got on the very same day. They began to talk again through instant messaging and short voice calls, that always make him brighten up. Perhaps one day, going back to his normal life after those short pockets of joy it will not hurt anymore. For now, he is willing to embrace the pain.

When the team moves into the village, he settles in with a slightly hyperactive novice called Asahi, who drops his bag and bolts out immediately, excited to see the place. Looking around the room, Rin finds that it’s certainly less _finished_ than he would have expected, but nothing seems to be falling from the ceiling, so he puts his things away in the makeshift cabinet and leans back for a rest.

Later that day, while walking to the cafeteria, he spots the figures of Natsuya and Nao Serizawa in the distance. They are the same age, and Rin’s seniors by a couple of years, but while Natsuya took his sweet time roaming the world before he got serious, Serizawa graduated top of class in Tokyo and climbed the ranks to become a trainer for the national team quite swiftly. Ever since Natsuya came back from his travels and joined the team, they’ve been inseparable. He grins in their direction and both wave in tandem.

“Hey Rin, how’s it going?”

“I’m fine, and you senpai, Serizawa-san?”

“I’m good, Rin,” Serizawa answers, always cordial. “Are you settled? Is the room ok?”

“Should be fine. Nothing’s broken yet…”

They laugh and exchange pleasantries, but he notices that Natsuya has been eyeing him a bit oddly, which Rin blames on their stint in Australia years ago. Serizawa eventually leaves with a wave, and Rin finds himself facing Natsuya in the middle of the bare precinct, under the sun.

With an awkward scratch of the head, the older swimmer asks, “Can we talk?”

They walk until they find a shaded area facing a fountain and take a seat on a bench.

“I’ll cut to the chase”, Natsuya starts. “Nao and I are together – have been, for quite a while. Some jerk found out and is trolling me to give him money, saying he’ll dox me if I don’t. Of course, if that happens both me and Nao are out of the team…”

Now that’s a bit of a bomb. Trainers are not supposed to date athletes under their care. If this comes out, Natsuya is right to fear the backlash.

“I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can help with…”

Natsuya’s brown curls fall like a curtain over his eyes when he leans forward, tucking his elbows between his knees.

“Rin… Nao and I have been together… since high school… I’ve have been a shitty boyfriend, to say the least, but the worst is that, somehow, the troll knows that… and he’s name-dropped some of the people I’ve…” he stops and swallows, “been with, over the years.”

“Oh,” Rin whispers, his brain beginning to process the implications.

“I told Nao. He was upset, but he forgave me… We’ve decided we won’t deal with trolls, so we’re not giving the lowlife any money, and we’re ready to deal with the consequences, if anything happens.” He pauses, warm brown eyes locking Rin’s. “I thought you should know...”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just the two of us and Nao. I’ll talk to Ikuya if it comes to that. Rin, I’m sorry. I never meant to get you in any sort of trouble, but please don’t talk to anyone about this and if you get any weird messages tell me right away. I wouldn’t put it past them to go after you too.”

“What the hell, Natsuya? What did you do to this guy?”

“I don’t know, Rin. I guess I can be a bit of a jerk sometimes…”

“You bet, asshole. Living off a kouhai in a foreign country… seriously…”

He adds a light ribbing for more impact and that seems to lighten up the mood. Natsuya laughs and elbows him back.

They part on good terms, Natsuya to the apartment, Rin to the cafeteria. While eating, the strange conversation remains in his mind, hitting him with a pinprick of worry that he’d rather not have. During the course of the next days, though, the thought all but vanishes, shoved to the background by training, qualifiers and the onset of the big races.

He keeps tabs on social media just in case. There is an avalanche of activity surrounding the Olympics, and it doesn’t help that he has to search everything in two languages. There’s always a good deal of gossip going around. This year, people seem mostly intrigued by his tattoo. He’d purposely asked for a very small and thin script, so it’s virtually unreadable, but there are some zoomed up images and speculation about what those four words might be. It makes him a bit smug that he can keep a secret in plain sight like this, while his skin is on display for the whole world to see.

Haruka, his daughter and the Tachibanas are a constant presence in his races. They don’t attempt to meet otherwise, but Haruka calls at the end of each day, excited and strangely talkative after every win, every record broken.

So far, Rin has already bagged gold in the butterfly events, bronze in the IM, silver in the 200m free, and he’s finally beaten Albert’s Olympic record in the 100m free and taken the gold.

This brings morale up, as the medley relay team finally makes their entrance. Momo is literally hopping as he readies himself to kick off the race. Ikuya is his usual quiet self, but his smile is wider, his stance more open, and his older brother exudes confidence left and right. Rin doesn’t ask about that thing… maybe it’s all sorted out after all.

As he warms up, he looks over to the section of the bleachers where he knows he will find Haruka and the others. It’s a ritual by now. He waves and sees them both - father and daughter - wave back with the same shy, small movements, as they sit ramrod straight in their chairs.

Momo jumps into the pool and grabs for the block. They all stand by, Rin at the back. He swam the butterfly leg in London, but this time he will anchor. He’s got a feeling that this is it – their moment.

And just like that, as simple as bodies moving through water, it is. His hands slap the wall and his head bobs up. He peels his goggles off and looks at the scoreboard. They’ve won. Japan takes the gold. His team mates crowd him, the coaches celebrate, the audience makes an indistinct noise, between the rumble of a train and the roar of a beast.

Later, Rin climbs on the podium with his teammates and receives the medal and a small statuette. The flags rise up across the water and the eerie melody of Kimigayo fills the space. He locks eyes with Haruka and thinks that he could stay like that forever, bathed in red, white, and deep blue.

The team takes a tour around the pool. One of the assistants hands them a national flag and they take turns carrying it, as they walk and stop here and there to wave and have their photo taken. A couple of young women standing on one of the nearest rows throw him a small rainbow flag. He hesitates for a second. He’s never wanted to be a standard bearer, but he catches it anyway and waves at the girls, who cheer happily and embrace each other.

He finally makes it to where Haruka and the gang are, with his team in tow. They are one floor up so he can’t do much more than wave and smile and show off his medal. They have agreed to finally meet after the ceremony. They will have dinner all together and the kids will go to bed late and his heart will not break when he has to leave because he is a strong, grown-ass man now.

He waves their way one more time and enters the tunnel. All team members are walking in tired, contented silence when he hears a voice behind him say,

“Fuck!”

They all turn back. Natsuya has his phone in his hand and his complexion has gone livid. All the worst-case scenarios cross his mind in a flash. He rummages his bag for his own phone. Time seems to drag. Some of the others have been quicker to go online and there are gasps coming from different directions. He finally sees it.

_A pool full of men: Japanese swimmers in gay orgy_

“What the fuck?”

There’s a bunch of photos attached to the post. Rin scrolls madly through the incriminating shots of Natsuya and Serizawa, some guys he doesn’t know - swimmers from around the world, by the look of it - and finally finds his own picture. It’s just him with a towel wrapped around his waist, in a hotel room balcony, leaning over the railing. He remembers the scene. It’s from a short trip to New Zealand he went on a few months back. The funny thing is, he went on that trip alone. He didn’t hook up with anyone there. Why the fuck did they bundle it with the rest? He can certainly prove his innocence, right? What can anyone charge him with? Nudity?

He looks down at his other hand, still idly clasping the small rainbow flag.

_Fuck._

There’s a commotion brewing in the tunnel. Ikuya is squatting, head in his hands, Natsuya is panicking over him. One of the trainers helps them both up. They are all shepherded into a van and told to keep quiet and off the internet until further notice.

By the time Rin gets to his room, Asahi and his stuff are nowhere to be found. Rin is left alone in the small room and realization finally hits him. There is no coming back from something like this. Whoever framed Natsuya probably thought it would have more of an impact to fuck him too. And here he is, at the apex of his career, burning as collateral to someone else’s shitstorm.

His phone starts ringing. It’s Sousuke. It would do him good to talk to someone, but he freezes, he looks at the screen and can’t bring himself to face his friend. Not until he’s made a decision on how to handle this.

Night falls heavy outside his window. The sound of music, celebrations, parties, erupts everywhere, all around him. It feels like a taunt and reminds him of the dinner he didn’t attend, the celebration he was denied. He looks at the tweet for the hundredth time. It’s gone viral – of course it has. He’s about to throw his phone at the wall when it starts ringing again.

Haruka.

He doesn’t know what makes him take the call, but he sees himself tapping the button, bringing the device to his ear.

“Rin?”

“Haru…”

“Hang in there, Rin. Listen, we’re here. You’re not alone.”

“I… they told me to stay in…”

“Screw that. I’m going to pick you up.”

“Wha-? Haru… Are you crazy? What about Mari-chan?”

“Just left her with Makoto and the twins. Tell me where to get you. I’ll be there with a driver in half an hour. No one will see you. I’ll pay for the discretion.”

And alas, Rin is not a strong man, not at all. The offer of Haruka right now is just too hard of a test for him to pass. Exactly half an hour later, he is walking out in street clothes, with his hair covered by an oversized hoodie, and getting into a totally suspicious black van, where Haruka’s arms await. He dives in. Haruka is so warm, his skin so soft, his breath so comforting as it hits his cheek. He accepts the kiss on the forehead and rests his head on the shoulder he is offered.

“You did so well,” Haruka says, “I couldn’t believe it. You are amazing, Rin, don’t ever forget that…” He nods and realizes he’s started crying.

Haruka brings him to a two-bedroom suite in a new hotel not far from the aquatic centre. There are comic books scattered on the floor near the sofa in the sitting room and a box of Legos spilled on the seat. It feels like trespassing in a family home, and he feels guilty, which adds to his general malaise.

Haruka takes two glasses from the cabinet and rummages the mini bar, before coming back with a small bottle of liquor.

“I know you don’t drink, but maybe just this once it will help?”

“Yeah,” he replies, because who cares, tomorrow he might not have a career anymore.

He can’t really stomach much of anything, let alone booze.

“Rin, do you want to talk? You don’t have to…”

He heaves a breath and takes a seat on the sofa. His fingers catch a piece of Lego and bounce it like a see-saw.

“It’s true, you know?” he says. “I mean, the orgy thing is bullshit… but I did sleep with that guy at some point…”

“Ok.”

Haruka is still standing beside the sofa, looking like he’s examining something in the mini-bar, but really just eschewing eye contact.

“Don’t you think I’m gross?”

He finally faces Rin, frowning.

“Why would I think such a thing?”

It’s obvious, isn’t it? Rin gestures vaguely.

“People have sex, Rin. We split a long time ago. I can’t expect you to be a monk.”

“Jeez, Haru, if you put it like that…”

“Like what?”

Haruka’s face is blank, but in that kind of quirky way that always endeared him.

“Haru, you’re really crass,” he chastises, but his lips are starting to curl up against his will.

Haruka just shrugs, looking at Rin now, in his face the most beautiful small smile.

“Come here,” he bids, and Haruka complies, sitting by his side.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he feels he needs to bridge the distance between them, somehow. He takes Haruka’s hand and smooths his thumb over it. Haruka closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Haruka shakes his head and interlaces their fingers. “It’s ok. Let’s stay like this for a while.”

He lays his head on Haruka’s shoulder and their joined hands fall on Haruka’s lap. His eyelids are heavy, the exertion of the day catching up to him, and making him feel like he’s about to KO right then and there.

“Do you want to rest?” Haruka asks.

He nods. Haruka pulls him by the hand, into the bathroom and hands him a set of pyjamas.

He chuckles. “You wear proper clothes to sleep now?”

“You can have the loosey-kun t-shirt if you prefer…”

“Nevermind.”

They both laugh weekly. Candidly, Rin pulls his hoodie over his head and reaches for the pyjama top. He hears a soft gasp. As he looks up, he finds Haruka’s eyes fixed on his chest, on the writing etched in his skin. A long finger hovers over the words and blue eyes glaze with something Rin can almost describe as wonder.

“Rin…” he whispers. “You still love me...”

* * *

When Rin wakes up the room is lit with the faintest pre-dawn glow. He is warm all over and cradled in plush bedding. Haruka’s breath is even if a bit deep. He’s still sleeping.

At this close distance Rin can examine the subtle changes left by the passage of years. Small creases of skin, a few scattered freckles, a white strand amid black. Evidence that this is in fact the real Haruka and not a hallucination of his mind.

He was always so handsome. From the very first time they met Rin was taken by that subtle beauty, but he still wonders what made him fall in love so helplessly, that even now, after all these years, he still feels the same thrill, the same pull and an overwhelming desire to just keep Haruka for himself.

There’s a soft sleepy mumble and, suddenly, those blue eyes are blinking open.

“Rin…”

“Hi…”

“Are you ok?”

“Hmm. I am now,” he replies truly.

Haruka hums and scoots a bit closer. One hand comes up from under the bedsheets and combs a stray lock away from Rin’s face. They are facing each other and Haruka is observing him with eyes full of affection.

“Rin…” the man says again, letting his fingers linger on Rin’s hair, thumb brushing his temple.

“Haru, I don’t know if I can-”

He loses his train of thought when Haruka’s lips advance upon his. It’s just the way he remembers it. Haruka’s lips are still the perfect mix of softness and thinness, and his kisses are still gentle and forceful in a way that always made his legs weak.

The lovely sensation suddenly leaves him, and he is looking into Haruka’s eyes again. He searches for something there that will make him stop, but all he finds is a mirrored image of his own desire. So, he surrenders. He rolls over and pushes Haruka along with him, covering him with his body, pressing him down against the mattress, returning the kiss. Haruka’s hands come to the small of his back and make their way up, spread and eager, mapping him anew.

He can feel hardness quickly building up between them. His hips involuntarily buck and Haruka whimpers. He pulls himself up a little, allowing an inch of space between their bodies.

“I still can’t resist you. I’m sorry,” he says, sheepish.

Haruka just pulls him down and they resume their sloppy kissing. All in all, it’s not unexpected that they should fall into each other’s arms like this again. There were always unresolved feelings and a deep attraction between them. Maybe doing this will hurt them more, or it might finally clear the air and allow them to be friends. The outcome is impossible to predict, but that doesn’t prevent Rin from sliding his hands under Haruka’s t-shirt and palming his chest, from fondling his nipples and basking in the satisfaction of seeing how Haruka arches his whole body in response. It doesn’t stop him from scooting lower, pulling Haruka’s pants down and letting his tongue swirl hungrily around Haruka’s cock.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Haruka shakes his head. He goes in with full intent now, lapping, suckling and taking it all in. Haruka fucks into his mouth with all the restraint he can muster while still borderline choking him.

“Wow. Fuck,” he pants, a bit dazed.

“Rin…” Haruka’s breathless call makes him look up. “Make love to me.”

“Haru… Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve been dreaming about it for eight years.”

He is hit by an overwhelming rush of longing. Just like that, all his reluctance dissipates. If this is what Haruka wants, he will give it to him, no matter what, he decides – even as he realizes that, logistically speaking, they are likely unprepared.

“I don’t have anything on me,” he says gently, tracing the lines of Haruka’s beautiful face. “I’m clean, I’m 100% sure… I’ve been pricked and prodded almost every day, but…”

“it’s ok. I trust you.”

Haruka gets up to look through his travel pouch and comes back with a bottle of baby oil. Rin, now sitting cross-legged on the bed, takes it and pecks his nose.

“I love you.”

Haruka looks up, vulnerability and fondness in his eyes, and finally says, “I love you too.”

Rin gets to it, still slightly on edge. He has never done this – not with Haruka, not with anyone. For him, unprotected sex is a big thing. It’s a leap of faith. A faraway voice in his mind says that he can never be 100% sure that he’s ok, or that Haruka is ok. But when he thinks that, despite all that the world is saying about him, Haruka is still willing to bestow the ultimate trust upon him, he feels that there is nothing else to do than to take that leap.

He manhandles Haruka onto his back and settles beside him. His skin goes up in bumps as he tips the bottle over his fingers. He’s so horny from the simple thought of having Haruka like this that he doesn’t need any foreplay. He takes the plunge and his index finger goes in.

As it turns out, Haruka is a much easier lover than himself. He lies down and lets his body melt, lets Rin’s tongue ravage his mouth and Rin’s fingers breach him one after the other. He makes little whimpering sounds and clings to Rin’s shoulders, ribs, hips, anywhere he can grab, when pleasure or pain hits him hard and he needs something to ground him.

When Haruka is all loose and mellow, Rin pulls his fingers out, lifts Haruka’s hips and slides a pillow under his bum.

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

He lines himself with Haruka’s body and pushes in. He tries to go slowly, remembering every bit of how it was for him. Haruka scrunches his eyes closed and bites his lip. He looks so beautiful and feels so good that Rin can’t even believe this is real. Pleasure hits him when he finally slides all the way in, and his cock is fully engulfed in tight warmth.

“How does it feel?” he asks.

He doesn’t get an answer for a while.

“_B-big_,” Haruka finally offers.

It makes him incredibly embarrassed and even hornier, but he keeps it gentle, swaying in and out with the lightness of the wind. If this is a desire of eight years, he doesn’t want to rush it. He wants to offer Haruka the best possible experience before they part, before Haruka has to go back to his life and Rin is left alone to pick up the pieces of his broken career, his tarnished reputation and his battered heart.

Haruka crosses his legs behind Rin’s back and pulls him closer. He feels the build-up of sensations that will tip him over soon and he starts stroking Haruka. The man whimpers, moans and grips his neck in a way that will surely bruise. He rolls his hips a few more times before his orgasm hits him and his loads spills inside Haruka. On cue, Haruka’s back arches and his cock shoots white ribbons that hit Rin’s chest and pool over his navel.

When they come down from it, for a while, they just pant into each other’s mouths. Rin lets himself roll onto his back, still unable to really move his muscles. He watches as Haru reaches for a handful of paper towels and pats at his stomach. He’ll soon start leaking, the bed will stain. Haruka rolls onto his side and Rin imitates the movement. They stay like that, facing each other, touching gently, and looking lovingly into each other’s eyes.

It’s then that Rin catches Haruka’s gaze moving down to his chest. He is staring at the tattoo again, just like the night before.

“_Moon river and me_”, Haruka recites.

They both look at that patch of skin like it has the answer to all their questions. It’s startling when Haruka finally breaks the silence.

“I’m going to get divorced.”

* * *

He should say something, but at that moment, he can’t bring himself to embrace Haruka’s decision unconditionally. Perhaps he needs some time to process it, or maybe they need to talk it over. He watches as Haruka gets up and limps to the bathroom. The sound of the shower goes on for a long while. How many times has this man found solace in water when no one else would offer him any?

He goes in without a word when Haruka is done. The warm water relaxes his muscles and the steady sound of the stream lets him gather what can be the beginnings of clarity. When he comes out to the sitting room, breakfast is set on a round table by the window. There’s a small jug of orange juice, tea and coffee pots, mini pastries looking crisp and golden, tropical fruits arranged on a plate, butter and jam in little bowls, a daisy in a thin glass vase.

Haruka is sitting in silence and looks up at Rin with heartbreakingly hopeful eyes. Rin takes a seat opposite him and watches as the older man picks up the juice jug and fills two cups, then transfers some croissants and pieces of mango to the plate in front of Rin. He repeats the action, this time filling his own plate, and begins to eat.

“What about your kid?” Rin shoots between bites.

“She’s with Makoto, I told you ye-”

“No, I mean if… just now… what you said…”

“She’ll understand. She already loves you. Won’t start hating you now.”

Rin is not so sure of that. In fact, he can see the opposite happening, the admiration turning to hate, the elation turning to disappointment.

“Your family, your company?”

“The company has professionals taking care of it now. I can leave it any time. My family…” Haruka pauses. The fork in his hand finds itself piercing the towel. The hand that grips it starts to tremble.

“Rin, I made a terrible mistake. I regret it every day. What we had back then was worth turning the world upside down for. I was so weak and stupid. When you left me, I should have fought to win you back, but I didn’t. I thought it was the best, for you to go freely and flourish in the world. My life was too small and troublesome. You were this incredible force of nature and there was no way that you would be happy or accomplished, even if we somehow worked out. And for a long time, I thought I had made the right choice, because…look what you’ve achieved. You are amazing. I am so happy and so proud. For your sake, I tried to kill my love for you. But now I know, that it never died. The last time I saw you, when we finally decided to be friends, just friends, it didn’t feel right at all. It was not enough. I didn’t know that you still felt the same way…”

“Haru, I love you. I always have.”

“Rin…”

“Shit, come here Haru.”

The movement is rather clumsy on both sides. There’s a rattling and Rin sees the butter wobble and fall to the floor. They fall on each other’s arms halfway between their respective seats. Their hands find each other’s cheeks and their foreheads come together. They close their eyes and rock together, until their breathing starts to synchronize, and they realize they are both humming the same old song.

“Rin,” there’s a solid resolve in Haruka’s voice now that he’s slightly pulling away, so that they can look each other in the eyes. “I’ve made this decision for my own sake. You don’t have to accept me, be with me, make it work… You’re free to leave me, but I want to be free to pursue you, to try my luck, to give us a chance. That’s all I’m doing.”

“Ok,” he smiles, “but I want to make it work too. So, I’ll wait, Haru. Do what you need to do.”

Haruka lets out a deep breath, relief washing over him at last.

“Rin, I don’t want you to leave, but what about the team and all that? Are you going back to the village or you want me to book you a flight home?”

Right. There’s still _that_. His phone tells him he has a meeting to attend, and there surely is plenty of shit still to hit the fan, but his decision is finally made.

“I’ll go back to the village. I’m going to deny the orgy, because that’s simply not true, but I’m going to come out. Yesterday I realized that there’s people who look up to me as someone who is like them, who knows what they’ve been through. I never validated that and now I feel that I need to. I can’t keep hiding who I am.”

“Ok. Do you need anything… a lawyer, money…? Do you want me to wait for you until you’re done?”

The offer is tempting. To have Haruka around to cushion the fall. But it’s ill advised to let him get involved in all of this. So, he makes himself grin and says,

“No. I’ve got this, Haru.”

* * *

The hours that follow are, indeed, hellish. When he arrives at the training facility, Natsuya and his boyfriend are already there. They are all brought into a room to meet with the coaches and some management people he’s seen in contract signings and the such.

At first the conversation seems to exclusively concern the two other man, to the point that Rin begins to wonder why he’s there. They are told that their relationship goes against the code of ethics and that one of them must resign, or else both risk being removed from the team. They both quit on the spot without batting an eye. Natsuya’s only condition is that Ikuya’s situation is not affected, which the coaches agree to.

As the other two are dismissed, Rin is told to stay.

“Matsuoka-senshu,” one of the management guys starts, “while we don’t have evidence to justify your immediate dismissal, as you may recall, this is not the first time we are having a conversation about your personal _choices_. I’m afraid that if we don’t do anything now, the image of the team will be severely damaged. What we propose is a simple public statement. You will apologize for your inappropriate behaviour and deny that you have ever participated in any orgies or homosexual activities.”

Rin is left speechless. His eyes take in the image of his interlocutor – short build, puffed-up hair, angular face with wrinkles around the eyes, an expression of sober indifference.

“_Homosexual_ activities?”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Matsuoka-senshu?”

“I will not deny that. I, in fact, intend to come out publicly.”

“I see.”

He takes a deep breath and stands up. He didn’t quite rehearse this, but the words flow easily out of his mouth.

“I have always dreamt of being an Olympic athlete. I made a promise over my father’s grave that I would make it here, and I did. Frankly, I am very satisfied with my performance this year and I would like to thank the Committee for the opportunity it gave me to fulfil my dreams.”

“Matsu-“

“I am truly thankful.”

And with a final bow, he turns and heads for the door. The room is dead silent even as he exits and lets the door close behind him.

He doesn’t stay for the closing ceremony or the announcement of Tokyo 2020. He doesn’t expect to make it there. Even as he is packing, mail starts pouring in from his sponsors. It’s really over. But it’s ok. He feels accomplished. He can take some time to think about his life before he starts anew, and the best place to do that, is home.

His mother welcomes him in Tottori like a war hero. But it isn’t just her. There’s Gou and her little family, Sousuke, who took a week off on a day’s notice, Nitori and his uncle Mikhail, Rin’s first private coach. Most surprisingly, though, is to see Hazuki and Ryugazaki there too. Haruka didn’t come, but he wouldn’t have wanted him to.

“You guys…” He wipes his eyes with his sleeve, still engulfed by the small gang.

“Nii-san, we’ve prepared you a welcome dinner. You better be hungry.”

He nods, tears in his eyes. This is the best sight he could have hoped for.

He stays at his mom’s place and, in memory of old times, hangs out with Sousuke in his childhood bedroom. They get hold of a printer and Sousuke makes piles out of his sponsorship contracts and rescission letters, then reads through the whole thing with a red marker between his teeth. Rin is glad that, for once, someone is dealing with this shit for him. He goes through old magazines stacked under his bed and loses track of time. He doesn’t tell Sousuke about Haruka, not yet, although it gets increasingly difficult to hide all the texts and phone calls. Haruka has never given him this much attention. He feels like he’s walking on clouds.

“Secret admirer?” Sousuke asks one afternoon. He smirks but doesn’t give himself away.

“Sousuke,” he says one day.

“Yeah?”

“Can you take a photo of me?”

“Sure.”

He goes through his still largely unpacked stuff and finds the little rainbow flag from the podium ceremony. He stands in front of a white wall, holds it spread over his chest and smiles. After they pick the best shot, they write the text to go with it. Sousuke is better with words, so they take some time editing it until they settle on-

_A big thank you to the lovely fans who gave me this flag._

_While I deny the blatant lies that have been spread about me, one thing is true:_

_I am gay and proud._

_Love, Rin_

There’s an immediate downpour of both love and hate. Sousuke is the best person to have around in this kind of situation, because he never lets him get too emotional or riled up. He reports on the comments with sarcastic humour and absolutely forbids Rin from replying to the nasty stuff.

Like all social media storms, it lasts for a couple of days and then dies down, giving way to some other buzz.

* * *

With Sousuke back in Singapore, days become duller but also more peaceful. Rin spends time with Miyako, going to the market in Iwatobi, cooking, seeing relatives that he hadn’t heard from in years. His mother has aged gracefully and has none of the crankiness that one can claim when the sixtieth decade draws near. She is, in fact, the first person he tells about Haruka and his now ongoing divorce. She frowns when she hears of Mari and begs Rin to promise he will never let Haruka neglect his daughter.

One day, though, the monotony is interrupted by a visit from his former coach. The Russian stands by his door and demands a glass of wine. As his house doesn’t have any, they head to a small bar in Iwatobi, whose owner he knows and where they can talk mostly at ease.

Mikhail is a pleasant guy to be around, if a bit on the weird side. He is the first one who has the guts to ask the million-dollar question - “What do you plan to do with your life from now on?”

Rin dismisses him. He hasn’t thought that far ahead but he knows that something will come up. His career is done, but his life is not.

“Are you sure, Rin-kun? You really want to quit swimming at your prime? And your muscles look pretty amazing too…”

That last part makes him laugh in earnest.

“Mikhail-san, I’m honoured by your attention, I really am, but going back to competition is not an option anymore. I’ve been all but banned from the national team. There is not a chance that they’ll select me for Tokyo. Plus, without sponsors, I have to feed myself some other way.”

“Rin-kun, if may I ask, where have you been living for the past four years?”

“Huh? Australia…?”

“I thought so. I’m leaving for Sydney tomorrow and I’m leaving these with you. Mail them to me if you’re so inclined...”

Mikhail lays an A4 envelope on the counter of the small bar but doesn’t give him time to even look inside it. He stands up and makes as though to tip an invisible hat at him.

“You’d look lovely in yellow, Rin-kun. Think about it.”

Yellow? With his hair? He’d look ridiculous.

His highball is still half full. He pulls the string tying the envelope and unwinds it, before lifting the flap. Australian citizenship application papers. A whole load of them. Rin goes through them curiously, in a “what if” attitude. There’s a lot of details to fill in and documents to attach. It sounds like a pain, and he kind of wishes Sousuke was still around to help him decode it. He snaps a photo and sends it to his friend, knowing he’s probably at work and will only see it later.

As he’s walking back to the train station, he dials Haruka’s number. He feels a bit bad for using Haruka as a sounding board for this. After they parted in Rio, Haruka sat down with his daughter and told her everything. It’s a lot to take in when you’re only eight, but Nanases seem to have this innate ability to keep their shit together. Albeit a bit confused with the idea that uncle Rin would become step-daddy Rin, Mari took it all in stride.

The conversation with Sachiko was a different beast. She’d known about them ever since Haruka’s 25thbirthday, when they disappeared together only to be seen three days later, attached at the hip. She’d known it was never really over when Haruka told her Rin would come for Mari’s birthday, and spent that whole month brooding and distant, staring into space. So, it’s not that Sachiko made a scene. She’s too much of a lady for that. Instead, she shut Haru off and referred him to her lawyer. He’s been living in a rented studio ever since.

So, when he shifts from casual talk to actually introducing the idea of a change of nationality, he is surprised to hear that Haruka thinks it’s a great idea.

“I don’t know,” he considers, “I never thought of myself as not Japanese. It’s weird…”

“I’ve lived abroad my whole life,” Haru says. “I don’t feel Singaporean, but I’m not sure if I feel Japanese either. If I were to think of a place where I’d go back when I’m old, I’d say Iwatobi, but that’s just a romantic idea. You shouldn’t be romantic about this.”

“Maybe you have a point…”

“Besides, I’d date an Australian. I heard they’re pretty hot.”

“Oh, shut up!” He’s blushing behind the phone and he bets Haru can tell.

“Rin?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Rin smiles and savours the words as they leave his mouth, along with fading traces of whiskey and soda. “I love you too.”

* * *

If someone were to come up to Rin and ask, “What do divorces and citizenship applications have in common?” he would certainly answer “They take an awful lot of time.” Months turn into a year, and then some. Haruka keeps him updated on summons and hearings, and even lets him in a bit on the copious amount of money he’s showering on Sachiko for this whole thing to go as smoothly as it can.

He goes back to training in Sydney and does some local tournaments, but without a national team endorsement, he can’t participate in any official international competitions. His teammates tell him that athletes get their applications approved more easily than other foreigners, so he hopes and waits and trains as hard as he can. One day there’s a letter in his mailbox. It takes him zero seconds to tear the envelope in half and read the underlined word at the bottom of the page:

“Approved.”

Some weeks later he is walking out of the immigration building with a new passport. Despite the reassurance he’s been getting from Haruka and all his friends, he still feels different in an existential way.

By the time all formalities are completed, another few months have gone by and he misses a bunch of important meets. He’s still recovering from the months of low motivation and poor nutritional choices. Mikhail is practically coaching him pro bono now and he’s as encouraging as he could be. They aim for the Commonwealth Games and Rin gets to work in earnest. It is an indescribable joy when he finally qualifies.

He only makes the cut for 200m butterfly, but it’s more than enough to make him feel like himself again. He pulls a decent result, though still far from his best. Mikhail tells him he can still qualify for Tokyo, and he finally realizes that he wants that. He really does. But baby steps.

The Gold Coast Aquatic Centre is a gigantic open-air structure surrounded by scattered patches of high rises, greenery, and water. The sun shines beautifully in the deep blue sky. Haru would love this place.

Rin doesn’t have any events on the last day of the tournament, but he heads there all the same to watch his new teammates from the stands. In the morning there are heats for some backstroke and freestyle races, the IM, and medley relay. That was his favourite race as a kid. Finally winning it in Rio was a dream come true. He’d always fantasized about the undying bonds of friendship he would share with his team, but he realizes with dismay, even two years later, none of his teammates have so much as dropped him a line.

But it’s no time for sadness. As the morning session wraps up, much of the team has joined him and they start leaving the venue as a big colourful pack. The finals are still to come later that evening, but the ambience is already quite festive. They talk of heading to the beach and watching the volleyball. Not before finding a nice place for lunch, though. That’s when Rachel, a teammate from his club in Sydney, squints and pokes his arm—

“Hey, Rin, isn’t that your boyfriend?”

Rin’s eyes quickly scan the crowd and, sure enough, there he is, in the cutest ensemble of white floaty button down and aquamarine tailored shorts. The smallest smile dances on his lips as he waves.

Rin runs. It’s been five months since Haruka’s last visit. Things have been intense back in Singapore and it has been impossible to come earlier. Rin was expecting him in Sydney in a couple of days. The early arrival is a pleasant surprise.

When they are face to face in the middle of the crowd, they give each other a soft peck and interlace their hands, then Rin tows Haruka to the restaurant with the rest of the team, and later to the beach volleyball stadium to watch the matches.

There is something about Haruka that day that just makes him glow. He is relaxed and blasé in that charming way of his. He makes witty remarks and laughs off people’s jests. He holds Rin’s hand and leans his head on Rin’s shoulder when they are introduced as boyfriends.

“May I know if there’s any particular reason for the good mood?” He whispers in Haruka’s ear. The man looks puzzled, but then understanding seems to strike.

“You don’t have your phone on you?”

Rin palms his own pockets. Right. He hadn’t checked his phone the whole day.

“I think I left it in the hotel…”

Haruka smiles, his eyes impossibly bright and breathtakingly beautiful.

“I’m a free man.”

For a moment everything else fades and there is nothing but those words and a world of wonder. Then, the wheels start turning again and he worries.

“Are you ok? Is everything ok?”

Haruka fixes the hair behind Rin’s ear, in the tenderest of touches. “Yes, nothing to worry. Everyone’s ok.”

And Rin pulls him in. The slender body that is both strong and pliant melts sweetly in his arms. There’s cheers and whistles around them.

Later, in the hotel, they enjoy each other with a lightness they haven’t felt in years. Everything is fine. They are where they want to be.

They move in together a month later. Haruka has a handful of boxes shipped in, that quickly get mixed with the stuff Rin brings from his previous apartment. They sit on the floor sorting it all out and go to the store to pick some furniture together. Bit by bit, it comes to live – their new space, their home.

Their life falls into a string of shared moments and simple pleasures that they have long been denied. Waking up side by side, going for a jog around the neighbourhood, cooking together, eating together, swimming together. Rin had almost forgotten how tantalizing Haruka can be in the water. They swim at Rin’s aquatic centre after training, or in public pools around town.

Legend has it that Rin Matsuoka, three times Olympian and still holder of several world records, has his ass handed to him on a regular basis by a quiet older man, who claims, with the straightest face, that he only swims free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised after writing that there are some contentious themes in this last chapter... Being part of an AU, the "event" in question comes from slightly different premises, but let me know what you think!  
Hope y'all liked this story. Thanks for reading and leaving all the awesome feedback.  
Cheers!


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